Poetry – Clearing Fog

Reading Time: 1 minute

 

Sitting on the hill

I am this hill

Enveloped in fog

I think I will sleep

In waking there is warmth

My ears hear the morning sun

My pores open with receptivity

Finally the haze begins to clear

Like a stiff winged butterfly after metamorphosis

I am free

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *