by Ethel Mortenson Davis
you
smell like
wild snow
or
of trees
that hug
the earth.
turn your head.
you can hear
the moss
cling to the sides
of trees
and the sun
make your hair
the color
of red honey.
not there.
leave that hill
unnoticed.
For You
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
fourwindowspress 
“you
smell like
wild snow
or
of trees
that hug
the earth.”
“and the sun
make your hair
the color
of red honey.” – love all of that, so much.
Excellent poetry.