Shadows dance beneath the sun The clouds claim of a storm to come No wind is blowing in the present It'll wait to be resented The birds have long gone They know of the tumult to dawn Brazen trees have bared all Knowing the leaves had to fall The hues have turned Sanctifying like a churn Shortly will be the new season There is always a reason © 2020 Loly Rinn Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash From a personal anthology of bygone poetry
Heed the season
Published inBygone Poetry
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.