// you’re reading...

Poetry

The Outer Fields

While walking outer fields

Observing picket fence, sentry

Behind, which lay bright floral yields

Egg white posts deny full entry,

But beneath them

Embroidered hem,

Flowers sneak, peak, colorful toes

Lower daises, high, the queen rose,

Generous salutation

Nod back to garland’s glare

In most unlikeliest places

Find Lord’s precious stare

-Deacon Frank Attanasia

9/6/2002

Discussion

No comments for “The Outer Fields”

Post a comment