In Ruins
In the puddle of monsoon floods
Autumn boughs are quick to erode
From the grate of colder evenings
Finely whipping each earthen lode.
Yet for all I bemoan the end
Glowing through lambent summer’s blaze--
Who could not be enthralled by fall
Its rain and hued portrait amaze.
The slow wilting ‘midst vibrant tints ,
Now paints an oak tree that loosens
A tight grip upon mauve-lined twigs--
O fall…a beauty in ruins! ~
..........................
~Writing Challenge- Decay-Poetry Contest
For Constance La France 9/25/2020
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