Walk barefoot cross the dew-blessed grass
still green from summer’s sun
wet-cold as northern lakes in June
first leaves have just begun their run
Tiptoe past the white hydrangea
standing tall before the fall
sentinels of unbowed beauty
caress your eyes and guard the wall
Sun is barely breaking ground
hides behind a grove of trees
invites autumn to take over
drives the season to her knees
Crystal threads are strung on tips
of blades awaking from the night
the filament of spiders’ loin
sparkles in the morning light
No comments:
Post a Comment