The Woods Poem by David Bisacca

The Woods



Think it would be profound
The difference in the sound
First morning walk alone
Without that cowbell tone

Birds the breeze the rustling leaves
Lack of ring no difference to these
The woods they seem to sound the same

Tired lungs swell i stop to ponder
Lack of timely bell do the animals wonder

There- that squirrel he used to tease
Ran just ahead and up a tree
He hangs his head and chatters down
Does he miss that ringing sound..

Thursday, May 21, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: death of a friend
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
my large shepherd's passing.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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