Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Bayou Morning

Where the trees
Drape over the murky waters,
The winds caress the moss.
The cicada chorus grows
Louder, louder, louder,
Then silence and begin again.
Along the bank,
The blue heron stands majestically,
Peering across the rippling water.
The early morning reflects the light
On the teardrop dew,
Opening its eyes to the day.

3 comments:

  1. Nice poem about my backyard:) The cicadas have quieted for now. The sound I hear tonight is the owl. "Who cooks for you?" I hope you share this model of imagery with your students.

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  2. So very different from my morning!
    This is a lovely way to take a picture.

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  3. I can see and hear it! And now I'm homesick.

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