I Love Poetry
Falling,
slowly, lightly, as if weightless
in the gentle Winter's breeze.
Swaying,
softly, like a thread through a needle
as it weaves thoughts into dreams.
Colder,
frozen, fearful, as the ground nears
and the realization that you're
Falling
becomes a hard-hitting belief.
slowly, lightly, as if weightless
in the gentle Winter's breeze.
Swaying,
softly, like a thread through a needle
as it weaves thoughts into dreams.
Colder,
frozen, fearful, as the ground nears
and the realization that you're
Falling
becomes a hard-hitting belief.
31-35, F
