The frost creeps in, my bones still dream of June, Shiver whispers I'm not ready, too soon- wind's got teeth, bites through my thin defense, while summer's ghost lingers, refusing sense. Leaves crunch like warnings, sky's a steely gray, heart says stay warm, but dawn drags me away.
-
Author:
ROSHI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 1st, 2025 11:06
- Category: Nature
- Views: 12
Offline)
Comments2
Most beautiful true of the season but also as a metaphor true of age.
Thankd
Most welcome
Real-life or metaphor, make sure you got a good hot water heater. Goes a long way to lessen the bite...
Yes, thanks
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.