Thursday, September 14, 2006

The Fall

Deer bathe in sunlight
Acorns at their hooves.
Autumn comes.
Leaves turn dull brown
Ruthless winds
fling them to earth.
Rain-slashed skies turn
gray, the light dimming
like a drowning love.
Autumn comes.
Guns bark out death
and while leaves fall
I leave you.

1 comment:

  1. Autumn just begs to have poetry written about it!

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