Out of Place
As Autumn days grow cold,
frost gilds green pathways gold.
A thing once swung with grace,
a swing: seems out of place.
This summer-only toy;
looks lonely: stripped of joy.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
