Aug 2019
These dark days
Are beautiful as
The bare, withered tree.
The birds are gone,
But the gray is silver.
I have not yesterday,
But I learned the love
Of the beauties of today.
Are beautiful as
The bare, withered tree.
The birds are gone,
But the gray is silver.
I have not yesterday,
But I learned the love
Of the beauties of today.
Inspired by Robert Frost's "My November Guest"
