Pennsylvania Countryside
The hills swept by, rolling and green;
Tall, skeletal trees spiking through the canopy.
Stone, layered and tilted, spilling sideways
With edges rough; colors gray, brown and creamy.
Burned out trees; their limbs artfully twisted,
Clawing for the sky through lush growth below.
A hawk, wings spread, floating quietly aloft,
Fierce, golden eyes from early morning's light aglow.
White and black trees, with leafless stems,
Dancing and twisting through forests green.
Protruding stones, chipped with gargoyle faces;
Others layered, sharp, with a watery-wet sheen.
A dusty road meandering off to nowhere;
The greens of the woods spiking across the horizon;
An Amish farm with rows laid out so clean.
The sun's glory, over all, has risen.