Go back

                                                                                                Adelaide B. Shaw




the quiet garden—
a rabbit’s ears twitch
in the tall grass


the river at dusk—
reflections of car lights
flowing home


first day of autumn—
the sun on my face
feels the same


icy sidewalk—
an old man throws cold ashes
into the wind


a warmer sun—
old boots sloshing through
slush and mud


icy sleet
slicing through the afternoon
phone call from a friend


                                                                                                © Adelaide B. Shaw

triple rule

Loch Raven Review Fall 2005 — Vol. I, No. 1
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