Golden leaves swaying
On a November breeze
Floating, cascading down
Landing on soon to be
Frozen, winter ground.
Woods are silent, hushed, listening
To the still quiet as a hunter lurks
Waiting to kill in the midst
Of golden leaves falling, raining down
Upon barren, dying ground.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2014
Snow falls
Covers all
Falling
Falling
Drifting to the ground.
Piled high
Almost to the sky
Snow blows
Blows
Blows all around.
Critters dive
Into banks of white
Some to hide
Others to
Eat
Eat a hidden feast.
On a ground covered
There is no sound
As snow falls
Covering
Covering frozen ground.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Golden leaves swaying
On a November breeze
Floating, cascading down
Landing on soon to be
Frozen, winter ground.
Woods are silent, hushed, listening
To the still quiet as a hunter lurks
Waiting to kill in the midst
Of golden leaves falling, raining down
Upon barren, dying ground.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2014
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| Patrice on No One Is Listening |
| Patrice on Cold Is My Heart |
This work by Patrice Clarkson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on work at patriceclarkson.wordpress.com.
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