Gray clouds
Above the west horizon
Hiding the setting sun
As brilliant orange hues
Escape from within
Cloudy heavens, laying an egg
Brightening the darkening evening
After a storm
Four Cranes, strutting
Down the street, searching for feed
Non, they'll get from me
Forbidden I am, to do so
Risking a fine
They fan well, Nature will provide
Beautiful as the are
I just stare
In true admiration, of their beauty
They stare back and ignore me
As they, arrogantly walk by
Continuing along their homing
Migrating trail
Just strutting down the street
I thank them
For this one, unforgettable
Crane sunset
Lightening flashes
Along the eastern horizon
Rolling thunder teasing the Cranes
As they react
With calls of their own
Closing this wonderful
Memory
For me to store
In my head's valley
Of dreams.
the mark of a true poet is the ability to recreate what he has seen or experiened by utilizing imagery and mood, allowing the reader to partake in the panorama of the poet's mind and soul and the world he has encounters ... you have excelled in doing so ...
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik (Reader)
Reviewed on July 9, 2004
And I must thank you, William, for writing this so beautifully, so boldly ("they stare back and ignore me") and with such a capturing of atmosphere... it's simply a marvelous view of what must have been a grand and somewhat humbling experience. Nature, itself, is like poetry... and you've enhanced it with flair. I saw it all! Great piece! katy xox.
Explore the mystery of how nature makes unexpected gifts of creative wonders to an unsuspecting caregiver one late night and early morning in southeastern Georgia, USA.
Gina
love nature and you took us right into a nature in a pure form
Tommy
Love this poem, too, William!
Love Tinka
Reindeer
great image. you took me into this scene rather than just offering a solid description - the mark of a true pro!
wonderful poetry.........