near the ruins
of my hut
planted warm
a new start
a small smile
a few tears
embers fade
pleasant smell
faint woodsmoke
sitting by
the shore side
I reflect
where I could
have gone to
and what now
gratitude
found again
while I flow
YOU ARE READING
The Isle
Poetrywhat is a man to do when his secret haven is ravaged by a true force of nature?. Based on the tribe form of poetry
