The Lark
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The Lark

Morning Journey

A poem — about what I saw on a morning commute

Photo by Austin Schmid on Unsplash

The day’s journey begins
Before the sun rises.
I drive to work
As the sun climbs above
The easterly mountains.

Black storm clouds
Roll in from the west.
The air is thick, wet,
Heavy with moisture.
Mist is high in the trees.




The Lark shares fictional short stories and poetry

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Rhonda Marrone

Rhonda Marrone

Poetry and Essay Writer. Be Open Editor. Lover of all things nature. You can most likely find me sitting under a tree ,watching birds, writing poems.

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