Togetherness - Rambling Poetry

The Tubes That Follow
The delicate touch is left behind.
The sallow hue of a dead colour
crept from your cheeks in the lonely
Wearied of life in the white dawn;
A lonely breath blew
in the old open forest,
The lofty mountains appeared
on the horizon and resounded,
The sea was silver in the snow

--
and the clear spray curled against the shore,
The hollow green forest sprawls in the wide blue sky,
and the rough hills of the plain rustled in the wind.
Then, in the silence, the only sound was the
crackle of the branches,
The eagle dived in the air with a scream,
and the small pebble fell in a shower.