Trees are falling asleep into dormancy
as they make a dry-curled retreat
shedding their life-look and greenery
letting the last nut fall at our feet.
I Am The Spring
My eyes are slowly turning green
My head has now begun to lean
Blood is running as clean
and every word I mean
I am the spring.
Dennis Herrell writes both serious and humorous poems about his life in this civilized society. (Poking fun at himself is almost a full-time job.) He especially likes to look at the small things in everyday life that make us (him) so individual and vulnerable. Recent acceptances by Atlanta Review, Aura, Aurorean, Christian Science Monitor, Confrontation, Connecticut River Review, Pearl, Poem, Poet Lore, and others.