Aug 2021
The forest is silent this time of year.
It’s leaves,
shake no more.
The birds,
all left for warmer skies.
Just lonesome giants,
their empty cries.
I wave to the forest,
It waves back.
It’s leaves,
shake no more.
The birds,
all left for warmer skies.
Just lonesome giants,
their empty cries.
I wave to the forest,
It waves back.
The style of poetry I have been writing has gotten shorter and shorter to where I can’t think past line 4. So imma try to write longer more descriptive poems. I also tried using spacing to slow this poem down.
