Silver star
Winter devours
Green leaves from my hand
Withering and fades
The flowers colors
The moon hung
Half way in the horizon
Frowning down
At the frozen ground
A passage to the future
Of snow and perilous winds
Where silence seals
In its sounds
The ringing of the brass bell
Echos oft to far
The healing of Scar on scar
God gave us
His silver star.
poem by Howard Johnson
Added by Poetry Lover
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