Eastern Haze

There’s a haze in the
East. A pastel filter has
Settled over field

And stream, sky and stone.
The birds have ceased their trilling,
The sun has found its

Rest. For a moment,
All is still; the eastern haze
Recalls another

Time, a simpler time,
Like looking at a fav’rite
Faded photograph.

If you liked today’s poem, there’s more where it came from! Check out Tuesday Daydreams and A Song for All Seasons for more of my poetic ramblings. Happy April!

(c) 2016. All rights reserved.

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