r.l.cannon

Autumn Day

I often think of you; 

Well more often than not as if my mind stumbled upon slippery stones of sustenance

More often than not.

When a simple gasp of air 

Halts.

 

I often think of you;

By the brook where each leaf falls within ink 

Stilling the chill, dry voice.

 

I often think of you;

Well more often than not because well I miss you

Like a warm Autumn day.

Where all is still and I can quietly whisper 

My loves for you.

 

     -R.£ Cannon