June 2, 2010
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Gleaming on the neck of drab November,
Clad in outworn remnants of summer's splendor,
Comforting the barren trees,
Caressing their naked trunks,
Sliding off the fingertips of their branches,
To fall
Drip, drop,
Drip, drop,
Among the musty leaves,
Pitter, pitter, pattering
On the nests of field-mice gone to sleep

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TheSummoningFreak said...
Jun. 8, 2010 at 3:47 pm
i love this, it's great and really speaks to me. great job
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