I have a small, mixed forest near my home, part of it includes a tall grass meadow that links one wooded section to another. This poem is a personally descriptive one in that the local Hermit Thrush follow people out of the forest into the open sky of the meadow looking for people to hand-feed them.
Thanks for the critique, this piece might miss the literary mark but if you come for a walk with me and you will see what I am talking about.
With brightest blessing,
Last edited by nollaig
on 28 Oct 2012, 14:36, edited 1 time in total.
“Not all those who wander are lost.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring