The breeze is urgent, crisp, and like a stream
of consciousness that musses thinning hair.
Autumn arrives—she settles like a dream
that brightens life before the trees go bare.
I trudge the lanes of age—the oaks get older
as I proceed along my scenic stroll
until I reach the winter, stark and colder—
a man who’s reached the coring of his soul.
It seems there’s nothing left but memories,
a batch of craggy limbs, discarded leaves,
and skeletons of what were brilliant trees
providing atmosphere for one who grieves.
The winds are piercing—Death, I feel thy sting
a world away from love, and miles from Spring.
Bridging Seasons
Moderator: Spazway
Forum rules
Love poems and poems of romantic interest (not erotica).
Autoprune 12 months.
Love poems and poems of romantic interest (not erotica).
Autoprune 12 months.
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- Clearwater Poet
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Sat Jun 17, 2006 10:03 am
- Location: Raleigh, NC
- C.R. Ebowski
- Clearwater Poet
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Thu May 17, 2007 1:42 pm
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Re: Bridging Seasons
"Nobody can get the truth out of me because even I don't know what it is. I keep myself in a constant state of utter confusion."
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