Soon the falling will begin
Sunlight will weave in and out
Of leaves of trees
Changing the once dull and dusty green
Into complex tapestries
Closer to the ground
The grasses are cool and mute
Death will again dance to the tune
Of a seasons changing door
A snow of cold powder
Measured in more feet than me
Drifting up against wood framed houses
Icicles dripping off eaves
Bare black branches cracking ‘staccato,
In the concerto of my childhood dreams
A world where the clouds are blue
The sky dirty green and life is what it is
Cold and mean.
Todays best new poem was written by Donn302.
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