Michael Skinner - Writing on the Wind

A winter's day dawned clear and cool.

Knee deep in the steamy blond grasses.


Man made clouds written on the winds.

Scribbling like a mad man on the vault of heaven.


Tree branches like bony fingers pointing at an empty blue sky.

Michael Skinner

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/writing-on-the-wind/