Drifting - End Line Word Contest
The days grow short as if to welcome…….. Autumn
Colored days, a feast of red and golden.....Leaves
From tired branches they drop and slowly...Drift
Tenderly tossed by winds they dance………..Across
The garden path and rustle beneath…………My
Feet. Summer gone, and with it your ……..Broken
Promises. Left now with just an empty…… Heart
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2015
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