K.Hartless

Hollow Fall

Leaves pressed into the path,
a permanent scrapbook of fall.

Pop art forms by the Isar
shapes ripple, rise, and fall.
Still, nothing’s breathing–
colors stall.
The trees launch crinkly confetti
bombs, leaves liberated at last.
Take cover in a graffiti underpass,
silence sticks quick
to undecorated walls.
Welcome to our hollow fall.

© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved 

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