Faded leaves shriveled
to grey on a park hillside
foretell winter’s crunch.
Bow of a ghost ship.
Passengers with missing limbs
shiver the timbers.
Fall lies defeated.
Leaves play dead in the gutters
fearing winds of change.
Treasured poetry and bargain prose await all who enter here.
Faded leaves shriveled
to grey on a park hillside
foretell winter’s crunch.
Bow of a ghost ship.
Passengers with missing limbs
shiver the timbers.
Fall lies defeated.
Leaves play dead in the gutters
fearing winds of change.
I like these: the desolation of the first, the eeriness of the second, the playfulness of the third —
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Thank you, John. I must admit my daughter helped with the first one. She said, look mommy, the leaves are white as snow.
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fresh are the yes of a child 🙂
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Three awesomely connected versus. Love it, K.
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Love these. Shiver the timbers. LOL
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Haikulicious series, K. Thanks
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😊 Thanks, Ron.
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These really are great. I particularly like the last one 🖤🖤
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Second verse very haunting
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