In moonlight glare,
Cottonwoods sing in the wind.
I see silvery branches, glowing.
Camp sits between the beauties,
near the sandy creek
running chilly and cold.
The Cottonwoods tilt their trunks,
waving their arms-back and forth
beneath the moon.
Heaven is here.
creak their wooden limbs.
3 thoughts on “Dancing Cottonwoods”
Nice. This reminds me a lot of something I wrote a while back titled, “The Mighty Mighty Oak Tree.” In that respect, I think we have something in common. 🙂
I would like to read your poem about the big oak. I mention Cottonwoods in a lot of stuff. I don’t know why I like them so much!? They’re just awesome!
You’ve given me an idea. I’ll post that poem in an upcoming post – it goes along with what I almost experienced – a hurricane. Check my site soon.