Idle Willows

Empty vast heaven yields arced yellow to gleaming beetle horns.
Trees topple, and topple.

Under the idle willows the resting sage plays with splits of sunlight.
Thoughts fritter, and fritter.


Gleaming beetle horns wrench shining arcs from the vast empty void.
Trees tumble, and tumble.

Sunlight splits over the resting sage in idle willow veils.
Thoughts fritter, and fritter.


Image found here:

More versions of things.

About skyraftwanderer

A person who enjoys writing short story things, poetry and other random things that come into my head.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Idle Willows

  1. Ben Naga says:

    Who stands aside to judge the frittering?
    Awakened by a sudden handclap.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s