poetry

Flower Picking- a poem

Flower picking my way

through fields painted gold

only to find old

parchment paper.

 

Flower picking through

pages and pages

with not a word

but eraser marks

scribbled where

the eye can hardly

see.

 

Flower picking through

words and phrases

but nothing seems

to match what I feel.

 

Flower picking my life

away

hoping to find

answers between bookshelves

and old Robert Frost

poetry collections.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Flower Picking- a poem”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s