Lost River Glen Poem, by WL, at My poetic side

Bound to the trees

left to the ages.

Swallowed in the mists

of Avalon.

A child becomes

a woman grown .

Hoping for a revelation

that quells my tears

of grief .

My pride endures

quite heavenly.

My bouyant breath

explodes

into a riot of pines,

mountains and moonlight mists .

From a deeply shadowed

valley holding the mountains at bay .

I drink remorse and

crumble to sadness.

Coyotes prowl my

midnight shivers.

centuries of tenacious trees

tripping down a

tangled path of regrets .

The last vestige of

seconds ticking.

Countless , infinity lost

in the River Glen of the

morning sun .

As the Ferryman crosses

the River calling .

These hours

these hours

possessed .

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Lost River Glen