Jennifer Wood Poetry

Drums beating hard in the night.
A cool breeze blows the cloth of off the back of the man in the shadows.
A lost soul...
A stranger, unconventional and dark but living nonetheless.

His breath blows warm plumes of smoke into the evening air.
He grips his staff with might and stands his ground.
I find my thoughts drift to what must be going through his mind at this precise moment.

Is it the resentment for mankind?
The obscenity of society as violence and neglegence begets only more violence and bigotry.

Is he being reminded of civilizations past?
There values and morals that could of possibly saved us now..

Is it that maybe the best part of life.... is wondering why?

Poet: Jennifer Wood