The wind sings
In the trees
As I,
Alone,
Pass by
Gravestone.
Or, on the busy thoroughfare,
Oft, he catches me unaware
With piles of fallen leaves
And great boughs brought low.
And then I know
That all must go.
The wind sings
In the trees
As I,
Alone,
Pass by
Gravestone.
Or, on the busy thoroughfare,
Oft, he catches me unaware
With piles of fallen leaves
And great boughs brought low.
And then I know
That all must go.
Beautiful 🙂
Thank you. I’m delighted you enjoyed my poem. Kevin
A lovely poem, Kevin. Beautiful imagery.
Thank you, Vivienne, I’m so pleased you like my poem. Kevin
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Many thanks for sharing, Michael. Kevin
Beautiful, in time and very thought provoking. xx Michael
I’m pleased you like it, Michael. All the best. Kevin