Ribbons of smoke rise,
Curl, and let go.
And still they cannot disguise,
The outside autumn blows.
Through blinds the scene tapers,
Shadows stretch and yawn.
Leaves scurry to feel safer,
While the branches blow on.
Auburn orange bursts -
Burns the scene like peeled rind.
It has quenched the summer's thirst,
The timing of such design.
Summer has surrendered this morning,
To find before its eyes,
No warning for no worrying,
Just the prize beneath the skies.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
Ribbons of smoke rise,
Curl, and let go.
And still they cannot disguise,
The outside autumn blows.
Through blinds the scene tapers,
Shadows stretch and yawn.
Leaves scurry to feel safer,
While the branches blow on.
Auburn orange bursts -
Burns the scene like peeled rind.
It has quenched the summer's thirst,
The timing of such design.
Summer has surrendered this morning,
To find before its eyes,
No warning for no worrying,
Just the prize beneath the skies.