dogtrax

Where fresh water falls, this long river runs and calls to the heart of us

All bits and pieces of trees, scattered on the lawn; small shadows at dawn

for Algot

Little golden songs warbling through tree branches in the key of free

Life, ever so small, living in a world of soil; seen, barely at all

An idea in bloom, begins as a seed, and then transforms into song

Sound waves, in harmony, accent a melody, a noise, note, tone with a complex vibration and voice, amid the din, the pitch modulates in resonance and sonancy

a thesaurus poem, with “sound” as key word for #ds106 Daily Create

Something beneath white remains to be seen, between sleep and waking green

A forgotten shell, sits perfect in my pocket, abandoned by waves

Calculate the wind by way of the willows' dance, a movement in sync

Temperature drop! A mad swing of warmth to cold snaps us back to March

for Algot