Kind of a Hurricane Press
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Two Poems by Lily Tierney
Watching a squirrel climb a tree,
reaching the top branch.
All the while he was watching
me as I stood on the ground.
I could smell the flower as I entered
the room. The fragrance danced around
and became a song.
It traveled through the air and into the night.
The moon and stars conducted a symphony.
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