What Was. . .
Hours fall silent in Autumn’s dappled shade
Swallowed in fiery grandeur.
Illusion of beauty
Laid waste by crackling footfall.
Wind torn branches
Their cold black fingers
Silhouetted against the potential dawn
Where murderous flocks huddle
Waiting for light,
Both are gone.
2 thoughts on “VerseDay 10-25-2018”
You always hit a resonence with me, once well before I met your mother I wrote poem about fall in which I lamented the leaves having to die so that I could ski. I now have a sense that I was being vain to the max!As if the world responds to an individual!
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Sometimes humans get too big for our britches! Ha! thanks for your comment ❤️