Questions, comments, critiques welcome. Swinging from the Sun We swing from the sun and the shadows grow longer We sit and we stare our mouths wide in wonder The tree covered hills, the lake and the river The clouds tinge with red, the wind makes us shiver This late evening sky, such delicate blue Mingles with orange and pink colored hues Serenity grows, and feelings of awe Sing in our hearts with each breath that we draw And washes away this long day’s debris. So blessed are we for these things that we see Being part of this show from out seats on the hill This glory flows through us; our souls take their fill.
Oh, I dig it. You have a Whiman-esque, expansive feeling in most of your poems: the narrator can always see great expanses of area. I like how the colors change as the poem moves, just as the colors in the sunset change as the sun descends. I can see it all in my mind's eye. Nice work
