Excerpt from un-published poem by Andrea Koehle Jones
“…and hugged the windswept alpine coast with awry roots,
“…years since I stood there in her rust red glow,
I hear she stands there still.
But who will save the trees?
Then the breeze blows west
and I feel her call me back – to me.”
©Andrea Koehle Jones
Contact Andrea to request full poem.
jonsie961 (at) gmail (dot) com