the trumpet tree is flaming on the hill
its colours make it stand out from the green
i follow the road homeward with no thrill
the road is carved by act of human will
it's level length is very easily seen
the trumpet tree is flaming on the hill
in the mountain valley all is calm and still
a few flowers in hedges are allowed to preen
i follow the road homeward with no thrill
the birds that cry their messages are shrill
the air around us is both clear and clean
the trumpet tree is flaming on the hill
i hurry over the pathway trying not to spill
my schoolbag and make a stupid scene
i follow the road homeward with no thrill
with miles to go there is no time to kill
from start to finish there's no pause between
the trumpet tree is flaming on the hill
i follow the road homeward with no thrill
(C)2007, Fragano Ledgister
Circle
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Wondering what UCLA alumni poets are up to? Check out Circle Poetry
Journal, a published-by-referral-only journal, coming out Fall 2013. First
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11 years ago
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