[McDragon's Memo: I very rarely write poetry. I actually wrote this for a friend, but she said I could post it here!]

Copyright Jan 2001 Jenna B. McDonald

The sun is rising,
Daytime's approaching,
Alone in a meadow
A girl sits, drawing.

The birds are singing,
Wooing and courting.
Above, in the dawn sky
The stars dim, fading.

The crack of a twig.
The snap of a branch.
The silence of birds.
A stranger approaches.

The girl glances up.
Her pencil sits still.
From bushes across,
An animal watches?

Gracefully, carefully,
Cloven hooves dance?
A forelock
A tail
A shimmering horn?
A swirl of mist . . .
Gone.

The birds start singing.
The sun keeps rising.
Alone in a meadow
A girl sits, dreaming.

The leaves keep waving,
The mist keeps swirling,
Imagination? Or . . .
The girls smiles, drawing.

Back to the Meadow
Back to the living room