a poem from OUT OF AFRICA

December 31, 2006 6:23pm CST
The eagle's shodow runs across the plain, Towards the distant,nameless,air-blue mountains. But the shadows of the round young Zebra Sit close between their delicate hoofs all day, where they stand immovable,And wait for the evening,wait to stretch out,blue. Upon a plain,painted brick-red by the sunset, And to wander to the water hole.
No responses