"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Monday, October 25, 2010


The wind blowing color away,
orange, yellow and red
scattered across the ground,
brilliance turning brown.

Trees stand naked under the sun.
Limbs wrapped around trunks
trying to keep warm.

Fall is in its final gasp.
Its glory rattling in piles
raked knee deep.


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