A Thanksgiving Bouquet
The dark red
berries of a single tree
in Autumn
burst within
the enchanting leaves of gold.,
like the fronds
of a rose
at Dusk, meek and sleepy,
in the ebb
of a sun-
set.The soft briery pluck
of a tenor
ukulele
played beside the noble tree
is a prayer,
shyly hushed
by the dying leaves, the birthing
drupelets.
Copyright © Jennifer Cahill | Year Posted 2020
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