Swept into a sound like waves,
it falls, riding the flurry,
twirling through the long lonely space
between heaven and earth,
a splatter of color
from a towering paint brush
that casts rainbows on loam,
all while longing
to stroke
the sky.
Written 11/10/23, while sitting on the porch watching the leaves rain down from the treetops.
freestyle, musings, nature, non-rhyming, short, very short, seasonal: autumn, recently written
Dinosaur Fondue Poetry 