Ethereal Moments The Poetry of Donavon Scott Vinson
The Search
I slowly trod up the steep mountainside on a lonely,dark evergreen shrouded path.
In this frigid alpine air every breath I take is a knife stabbing me in the chest.
A cheery moon peeks through the dark canopy as though keeping me company on my journey.
I longingly look down upon the snow covered chalets and see the smoke rising form their chimneys.
It makes me long to be down there amongst family and friends sharing old stories and good times.
Alas it cannot be so for onward I must go on this lonely trek to search for that treasure that is so dear to me.
Hoping against hope that she has survived the airliner's crash into the m,mountainside when she was so close to home.
Donavon Scott Vinson