Click to read more beautiful poetry.
Emily Dickinson: The Gentlest Mother
_/\_/\_
| Breezes slip by me, stirring flow'ry meadows with the first breath of autumn. |
![]() |
| Click & find more poetry! |
| Ferns rife with deep trails — deer must walk side by side here chatting, gossiping |
The Doe I follow her trail through a forest of ferns, over blow-downs, through brambles of blackberries. The going is rough on this granite-blanketed mountainside. She moved silently while I burst through — huffing and cursing her nimble feet and my awkward feet. I lose her after the hoof mark in the stream's ochre mud. This forest has cloaked her and rebuked me. |
| Amy says, "No names! She isn't Henny Penny 'cause she'll be Parmesan!" |

Be sure to write your poem (the theme is Change), stop by One Single Impression to leave your link, and visit the other poets!_/\_/\_
One Single Impression is a community of poets writing and sharing haiku and other poetic forms. Each week we will offer up a new prompt that we hope will inspire your writing. We invite participants to share ideas for prompts, too.