seasonal recollections

Vermillion leaves,
Fall from pale limbs aloft,
In death, true beauty.

Gently falling snow,
Turn harsh corners to soft mounds,
All life to a dream.

Smells of blossom-rains,
And the playful wind-whispers.
Let me go, lost days.

Man-made fields gleam green,
Baked into false-permanence,
‘neath Her mournful gaze.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s