Saturday, February 16, 2008

August

The first golden leaf
Touches the ground.
The gods of autumn
Are marked with rust.
The sky turns copper and
Trees howl in loneliness.
The mist starts its journey.
Let there be August.

1 comment:

  1. Yay, august, I love august. Great poem, reminds me of robert frost's nothing gold can stay.

    Hey you can check out my website if you want. If u like it, maybe I can add ur site as a link http://ekhoingpoetry.blogspot.com/

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