raindrops are grace on the wind
amid pumpkins, honking geese and apple cider
fresh rain pelting in autumn’s rolling colored blowing leaves
ride soft pink cheek taps of breeze
and whisk over my collar with a shiver
in gusting chill October
this night’s clouds will
damn near catch fire
as whispy black and white goblins
zoom by the moon
Thursday, October 16, 2008
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2 comments:
A nice read, the first line is so lovely
Hi Jack,
I love the sounds in this poem, and reading it aloud.
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