Silence in the wood
A silence the wind can blow
With me there is peace
This, like the other poem I just posted, was written when I was twelve.
Soaring above the treetops,
The very image of grace.
Suddenly, sharply, diving, diving,
Legs reaching, feathers flipping,
Talons spread, closing over prey.
This is poem that I wrote when I was twelve years old. I included it in a writing assignment called the “Me Book” written when I was 16. I recently pulled it out to show to my kids and thought it would be fun to post it.