On Turnham Green
Dark, fallen leaves
Twist in Autumnal air
Resplendent homes -
Stand monumental yet
So quiet like graves.
The bare, thin trees
No longer hiss, or -
Dance, so slow.
Long waves of pale light
Spread and flood -
Washing us in preparation.
The landscape is ready,
For sorrowful days:
The death of colour.
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | September 24, 2009 - 18:08
I like this a lot.
So much said, such a vivid picture painted in so few words and in so few colours.
Tina