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adelaide-caron-dysonPoems
I sit and watch the season pass -- the swallows have flown south. Sparrows huddle in the trees, waiting to be fed. The leaves have begun to turn -- acorns litter the ground. All the colors: the yellow willow, the orange maple, verging pink. The browns and purples, surround me now. The mighty elm, Autumn's last sentinel, stands tall, baiting Winter with its chill. Soon bare branches, skeleton trees, will haunt the skyline and pine-cones will fall with any sudden wind. Soon I'll bundle against the cold, trudging through the snow, waiting for daffodils and Spring's delights.
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Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 10:10 AM UTC
I Sit and Watch
I sit and watch the season pass -- the swallows have flown south. Sparrows huddle in the trees, waiting to be fed. The leaves have begun to turn -- acorns litter the ground. All the colors: the yellow willow, the orange maple, verging pink. The browns and purples, surround me now. The mighty elm, Autumn's last sentinel, stands tall, baiting Winter with its chill. Soon bare branches, skeleton trees, will haunt the skyline and pine-cones will fall with any sudden wind. Soon I'll bundle against the cold, trudging through the snow, waiting for daffodils and Spring's delights.
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adelaide-caron-dyson
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 10:10 AM UTC
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