by Linh Truong

Created on: February 19, 2009

Poetry hides under the weak branches of a silent willow tree,

dancing with the pale breath of the morning wind.

Within each drop of rain, poetry unravels its voice,

gently brushing against the leaves of mid autumn.

Poetry hides along the shallow footprints that a stranger leaves behind

as she wanders to her destination, dreams are revealed from the depths.

Poetry is the brown rust that gathers as the rain polishes an abandoned chair

sitting in the shadows of a dark-ling forest. Its the breath that fogs up the windows

until you draw that words " I love you"onto it.

Poetry hides in the darkness where one must find it, such sweet words

that comes from deep inside.

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