hope On the barren prairie These fertile plains lie empty No hint of vibrant life apparent Remnants of harvest glories Husks and stalks resist The tearing, bitter winds glean shreds of yesterday’s wonder Tattered hopes remain A tentative reminder of tomorrow’s bounty Share this:TwitterFacebookMoreEmailPrintRedditLinkedInLike this:Like Loading... Related Published by Debra Avery View all posts by Debra Avery
windy, barren, cold and goes on forever….
At least it’s not the desert…