Reflections of the Sun

Rainy Sundays

turn us inward

to tracks and trails,



Our forests,

the hills and vales,

the rocks and moss,

a stick to toss

into the stream

that flows to

the swell.

Peaceful and clean,

with rain, the calm


reflections, internal,

and reflections

of the Sun,

burning the

morning fog

from the air,

my mind is verdant,

so green.

© CGT, 2018.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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