Carelessness

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  • Passion

    Carelessness

    I place a blanket beneath me as I lye across the soft sand leaving the form of my body sinking into a shape left behind with nothing to give. Well I lye there for awhile I watch the sun set fall into the distance then I look across the lake. The fog slowly appears as the moon light shines above all around in away the eye's can only imagine. The air feels cool but is refreshing and soothing through a body that lye's with a mind that feel's insouciance. I stay awhile longer starring up at the sky with so many star's, only making wishes on every star that shoots across the clear midnight sky.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Tammylynn’s Poems (2)

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