Breath | Teen Ink


August 8, 2011
By skywriter PLATINUM, Hood River, Oregon
skywriter PLATINUM, Hood River, Oregon
24 articles 11 photos 18 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The first draft of anything is crap."

the final breath of the moon
seeps into the river
and waits.

The trees are unaware at first
still in hiding
from the dark vigil that is night.
A whisper carries on the wind:
It’s coming.

The river murmurs
to the rocks
purple imitations of life
mixed with green and blue:
It’s coming.

A red-blossomed leaf
from its branch and floats
gently down
into the water.

The crisp autumn sun rises
lighting the stillness
will music
and colors of

The leaf falls over the waterfall
and tumbles
down the
and into a tiny pool of light.
It dies
as morning breaks.

The author's comments:
I wrote this during the Teen Ink New York summer intensive. It is about a beautiful stained glass window at the Met. I felt so inspired by it, the poem practically wrote itself.

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