8/24/2024 for THE WHISPERS OF AUTUMN Poetry Contest sponsored by John Lawless
Gold autumn leaves when they drop to the ground remind those abandoned of summer love, falling and making a whispering sound, as dead ghosts come down to haunt from above. One spirit does not want me to be free. Her soft voice seeks to ask me what She meant, descending through the decades to find me - that leaf print by a classroom, in cement. This fossilized specter asks me riddles - Is Autumn the beginning or the end? Does a violin cry when it fiddles? One day I'll say "bye" to this phantom friend - an imprint so lonely, it will be there when I'm gone, and nobody's left to care.
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