Hors d'oeuvre

The Arts - Poetry ---

Three Verses
by
Ric Couchman

Truly great was their loss;
They hung their heads in burdened sadness,
But the soft green will come again.

*****

Like Brushstrokes on the landscape
A sea of verdant green blooms serene,
While in fitful sleep the dead lie beneath.

*****

We play this strange game
In which neither of us looks at the other,
But I caught you stealing a glance at me.

_____

[Photo Art #1 by Adilson Araujo and Photo Art #s 2 & 3 by Ric Couchman]