National Poetry Month
Day 7
Wooded Cry
My eyes are dry
From the drained tears.
I live to breathe the air
In you
Evaporating
I disappear to wonder
Am I the tree standing
Waiting
To this forest alone
My heart aches
With fallen autumn leaves
I search
The distant clouds
To find my rain
I need you
To grow
And feed you
Of the oxygen
In my soul
I shall spread my branches
With every drop of you
I need you to live
Rain on me
Deborah R. Shaw
The Silent Stalker
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