When The Floods Came Poem by Andy Wood

When The Floods Came



Wandering in the hills.
Washing at the springs,
Drying in the sun.
Sheltering in the rocks,
Hunting in the woods.
Dancing in circles,
Time's game.
Seasonal swirls of sensations-
Manifestations of elemental
Freedom.
Nature unfettered by
Number or letter.
Harmonic integrity.

Drowning in the cities.

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Andy Wood

Andy Wood

Newcastle Upon Tyne
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