Daily poem: September stanza 25

 

Which way, now

that the trees are gone

and fields stretch bare of life?

Will we follow the homeless,

the evicted, into the night?

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Daily poem: September stanza 25”

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