Solid to the Touch

The hillside is a pumpkin patch,
pops of orange amongst
rolling hills of green.
We search for symmetry
in the dividing skylines,
red tree stop signs,
the roads a rope of thick vines.

The blue mountain woolen sleeves
itching the sunless sky,
rustle of an oversized afternoon,
vast brown cider ground,
wobbly trees, and a baggy breeze.

We haul our favorite find
fresh from vine,
grateful for grip, and
imperturbable family relationships.

Β© 2022 | K.Hartless


    • Thank you ever so kindly. It was quite a day and then today it was all catch-up so much so that I forgot to even check my comments. I’m so glad you enjoyed this slice-of-life poem. πŸ’œ

      Liked by 1 person

      • You’re most welcome, K. I completely understand how that is, finding myself posting every day for 30 days was awesome and difficult. I enjoyed your poem much. πŸ’œ


    • It was so serene yesterday, Tom. My day outdoors was rejuvenating, but then today seemed to be all catch up and running around. Oh well. I will keep a few fall memories to sweeten this busy week. Thank you for these comments.😁

      Liked by 1 person

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