April 27, 2011
Leaves fall softly
And blanket the ground
With orange, red, and yellow-gold.
Blades of emerald grass peek through,
Hanging on to their last bit of life
Before the bitter cold chokes it out.
Nearly bare branches rattle in the breeze,
Each gust of wind knocking off more leaves,
Sending them fluttering, fluttering down.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback