A Handful of Coins

hand holding a treeWhen silken shadows of night misplace
The pastel mists of morning’s grace
And birdsong sweet unto the ear
Turns melodious to fear

When the sullen moonshine’s filtered light
Woodland timbered fuel ignite
And forest creatures run in fright
Awakened, nature’s appetite

When all these truths have come to pass
And scoured the earth like brittle glass
Then man will pause; review the worth
A hand full of coins
A hand full of earth

Copyright © 2002 David J. Humphries • All rights reserved.
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