Author - Jonathan Avis
Focus Poems... Real Stories
Copyright © Focus Poem 2015 | All Rights Reserved
The cigarette which smokes,
smoked by me or perhaps by you too
creates a mysterious mist of her majesty
the wind which blows through the trees,
the creaking and cracking of the branches
speaking to me.
The leaves which rustle beneath
the ash at my feet,
being a feat of nature so wonderful yet ignored,
we need to explore and open that door,
explore my child.
See your father, I am here with you, I hear.