Who am I
this wounded earth
this silent battlefield
but a lonely tree
rooted in earth
harvested bright seed
thou art here
to comfort thee
Bury your ear
to the ground
listen for that sound
earth does speak to thee
Yet I reply that I stumble when I fall
Peach winds surrender
decayed leaves rain down
like wooden soldiers
on hallowed ground
bare autumn trees embrace me
Galley of angles spread your wings and rejoice in the sound
Feet planted firmly on the ground
Remember I have found that
I stumble when I fall
Poetry