Autumn Threads
Golden threads finger through the fog
To whisper at frosted boughs
For dawn is yawning at quilted trees
Where sunlight doth tap the pane of silent glass
Reflecting the blaze burning bright
Through misty Elms denuded
Of shame through natures stark humility
Poet Destroyer’s contest: Autumn Day
11 September 2014
Copyright © Mark Trichet | Year Posted 2014
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