I love this month, October, and this metaphorical poem just popped out of my head...directly-no thinking on it, no revisions.....as is.
Fall
Little brown leaves,
while surfing the sky,
wither and wander,
crumble and die.
Flecks fall into fallows
as soft rains say goodbye.
Poetry by melanie sue
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Written on 2010-10-10 at 16:15
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