Poem-A-Day: Day 484

Treasure

The wood at the end:
a treasured day, hat and shoes.

I lay down lost
and test the will to survive.

The shadow falls
and claim dream, trees and roads,
the hills, the sky, the deepest blue, 
the clouds, smoky trains.

News goes wide,
not a truth to lie in mother tongue.

Havoc wrecking lives
like a ball to the skull.

The spirit can't be broken.
I dream of trees and hills,
the sky, the deepest blue, 
the clouds, smoky trains. 

I dream.