Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

Archive for the month “May, 2017”


It is a clatter like dueling drumsticks.

A cold wind jostles the bare branches

Of endless trees, stark against the night sky.

A chevron of wild geese faintly chatting

Passes over, between the autumn moon

And the young man who shivers

With the absolute oneness of it all.


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