otist

Innocence melts in burgeoning noon's heat Roots drink their fill, a hue with emerald time Field adorns herself in jewels replete A humming bee tends the wizened vine

Wade in the field knee-deep there to stand Gaze upon saying naught to snow nor to sand A trail of gems and traces of things yet unsure Hum a slow route to the gold salty shore

Oh, dear Field in a blurry mad fade White snow hastening far and away Oh, adorned One reveal how the days From shadows raze your quandering gaze.

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#poetry #eveningwalks

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