Fresh Dew

Dec 4, 2024 | Poetry | 1 comment

Fresh dew on fallen leaves
The smell of burning pine
Sunlight begins to crest over the hill

Enveloped in routine I hardly notice
A rabbit not far away
As peaceful as a cherub
Hidden between the brush

Written By Zander

1 Comment

  1. Sahil

    This one is very comfy 🙂

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