O’ September, i welcome your change of attire from bright and
bold,
to where leaves shall fall from
trees and paint earths canvas of verdant
fields to a sea of browns, rustic red and gold, your
breath will
titillate my skin with some cool by day, by night, cold
your bouquet of flowers will soon drop their pedals, that
shimmied
with morning dew, and sleep at the end of their season, while
Starlings, Cardinals, Robins and Turtle Doves join in a choir
of song giving praise to a crimson horizon but soon to
fly south to a more warming sun
No comments:
Post a Comment