I walked a road I’d walked before,
With gold leaves at my feet;
A flock of geese soared overhead,
Their trumpets clear and sweet.

The chilled, blue sky held up their wings,
I pondered where they slept;
I’m sure their special hideaways
Are secrets all well kept.

I swept my path with frozen toes,
And carried on my way,
Deciding that a morning walk
Should always start my day.

For things we think we know about,
So frequently unseen,
Are crystalized in dawn’s gold light,
Like evanescent dreams.

(Written & Original Posted Nov 2007 – © Nancy Bond)


Author: nancybond

A writer, photographer, naturalist from small town Nova Scotia, Canada.

8 thoughts on “Evanescence”

  1. Morning, Nancy. Poetry is sure a compact, bizarre and fulfilling medium. So much said ini so few word – and said so nicely, eh? I wish the entire world was discussed in poetic style – what a neat world that would be.

    I stopped Nancy’s place
    To see what she had produced
    All I could think, when said and done
    A beautuful women, I deduced!

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