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.
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.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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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