Don'T Make Me

Don't make me move from the sound of
The babbling brook. . .
Or the drum of the ruffled grouse;
I want to stay away from city streets and
remain in this country house. The quietness of a forest eliminates
The fees of the psychiatrist. . .
And time spent gazing at a smokeless
Sky is one of the best. A rabbit hopping on frozen grass is
A sight to behold. . .
But a look at a large-antlered deer
Is one to enfold! As I gaze out the window, I wonder
When the fall of the last oak leaf
Will be. . .
From Winter to Spring seemed like
An eternity to me.

by Charles E. Sprow

Other poems of CHARLES E. SPROW (2)

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