The leaves are speckled yellow gold
Scattering dust on field, so cold
Where is the summer sun's chatter
As sky turns grey and lake iced blue
Birds and bees have flown away, true
Late autumn serves harvest platter
Filled with melancholy. Night clings
Of ripeness. Awaiting sweet sting
Of last breaths. How you live matters
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Nove Otto. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thanks for your visits and comments.
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