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WRITING: Poetry: Exile

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11 April 2009, 04:53 AM    #1
Joined: 11 Mar 2009
Posts: 212

I stop for just a moment,
To sit beneath this tree,
But it provides no shelter,
From the harsh and brutal sun.

And somewhere in the distance,
Where I left some time ago,
Are verdant hills and pasture,
A paradise still for some.

Expelled against entreaty,
Now abandoned and forgotten,
Thunderclouds in the distance,
Are warning of what may come.

I ask: Is this my destination,
And I left alone to roam?
Pondering my question,
The silence welcomes me home.


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