Had the honor of contributing, so wanted to share…


BeFunky_Tintype_3.jpgWritten by Charles “Gray Poet” Townsend  and Hastywords

I sat in the middle of the trees
A circle laid out in front of me
A noose of sorts, fibers strong
Tied perfect like he taught me
Why he taught me, I know not
But it calls out to me its allure
Will he approve of my creation
As I stare quietly, I’m not sure
The symbolism is not lost on me
The timing of each loop created
Braided with a meticulous ease
As if my story was foretold, fated
I lift it gently, proudly raise it high
He smiles, an affectionate wink
My dreamcatcher finally ready
Hung to snare images I think

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About graypoet

Just one that at times puts the words to the page and lets them fall as they might.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.


  1. Lisa says:

    I love the ending and I agree with Hasty. It is brilliant.

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