Autumn - Constanza

She hears the distant warbler sing As echoed memories enfold The truth of stories left untold An edgy tone, a bit of sting Sweet mysteries of ocean spray The cooling edge of yesterday For time is such a fleeting thing Its shadows in the sunsets glow Call out to us “please let me go” Life slowly closing its gold ring Around a world gone dimly gray Within the hope of one more day Although it may be made of string Placed on her finger in her youth It was this love became her truth She hears the distant warbler sing An edgy tone, a bit of sting For time is such a fleeting thing Life slowly closing its gold ring Although it may be made of string John G. Lawless ©9/15/2022 In Remembrance of Connie – Autumn Theme Poetry Contest