Dormant tree trunk shadows on snow,
the perfect slate,
sheet music on the meadow.

The crow flies a scale,
rearing up –
punctuates the arpeggio.

Deer hoofs plant staccato points,
leaves lay in pause,

branches bow the slurred notes,
a coiled snake
the bass clef down low.

The sun leaves the scene
pressures change,

wind sends the piece
played into the valley below.

-Shawn Milburn

Shawn Milburn grew up in California and has stuck close to home, living with his family near San Francisco. When not managing a hotel near the Golden Gate, Shawn will usually be in his wood shop making gifts for friends. Shawn’s poetry has appeared in Typishly, and will soon appear in the Raw Art Review and Tiny Seed Literary Journal.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s