He walked into the great wood
Before him, a lone trail stood
He was immune to all else
Including those distant bells.
It branched and twisted and bent
And lead to where his thoughts sent.
The tree – towers drowned the sun
Making green a sickly brun.
When he came across dead end
The boulders he stooped to tend.
Jaw set, he journeyed along
In my heart sparking a song.
YOU ARE READING
A Little Bit of Nothing
PoetryWhen one looks at the world as a whole, this poetry collection amounts to nothing at all. Not only that, you and I probably amount to nothing. Yet, there is some substance, a little "something" that makes life worth living. We spend all our lives li...