Friday, June 26, 2009

Red cedar in Spring


It begins almost imperceptibly,
faint tremor of evergreen fronds, quivering,
stirred awake by the promise of a breeze.

Anticipation, expectation of what is to come.
Primeval language, from deep root to leaf tip,
speaks of warm wind whispers and old growth sway.


Lesley-Anne Evans
07/03/08

1 comment:

  1. I love trees. Thank you for this poetic description. Glad to see you posting at your blog again!

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