Wet Leaves Poem by Jack Ingram
Wet Leaves
The moon has risen, as the sun has died.
It glows an eerie red.
The black tree’s claw at the sky,
naked of leaves.
A rustling somewhere.
A crow takes flight.
My heart holds an unshaken tattoo.
This is my natural environment.
Here I am King,
With my crown of tooth and claw.
I am watched by an unseen jury,
But they know me.
For I am nature’s fury.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 4:01:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
