dawn breaks camp in ouchita national forest
dark road winds, winds, winds
thru tall pines, pines, pines
fog stretches fingers between wooded hills
low mist finds, finds, finds
story lines, lines, lines
legends of sightings persist near beaver bend
where our minds, minds, minds
notice signs, signs, signs
a poem in my pocket 
Feb 06, 2017 @ 21:39:18
Ho Ho! Fun, fun, fun!
Feb 06, 2017 @ 22:16:46
😉
Feb 06, 2017 @ 20:50:42
love the beat of this poem! 🙂
Feb 06, 2017 @ 22:16:03
Thanks!