Feed on
Posts
Comments

May

September,

bright and invigorating.

Yellow leaves dance

on their branches,

waving at me

on long walks

on Wednesday mornings

 

October,

harsh and forlorn.

Brown leaves crumble

and sigh,

crunching beneath my feet,

dead,

on short walks

on Thursday evenings

 

December,

frigid and dark.

The leaves are all gone

as I watch from my window,

wishing it were May.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.