When she parked her car in the drive
four, five years later, there they were
still wandering out of the woods,

still searching for the drum, the heart
that they can beat. They can see it
in her and so they take her back
thru the golden rod and ash,

to the soul, flowering and green.


Filed under Musings, poetry

2 responses to “Returning

  1. My focus has definitely been taken hostage by the mystical (or magical) aspect of this piece. I think I’ll try reading it out loud, albeit through a whisper (as though speaking to a lit candle). ^_^ Thank you. Cheers.

  2. Oh wow.
    That’s really……
    I can see it in my head. Picturesque.

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