The day after.
Leaves turn yellow
In early autumn breeze
In the sky above
And under sycamore trees.
The day of.
The ground is still fresh
Grass around the spot
The coldness of the flesh
The stone on my plot.
YOU ARE READING
I Am Everything
PoetryExcerpt: "I am everything: The autumn winds easing the leaves away from their branches, A baby's smile at daddy's funny face, The tears that seep into the soil at a funeral, A heavy snowfall on Christmas Eve. I am a hug: Offered only during t...
