a september haze

alienkid

September: a kiss.
The start of something,
subtle and twilit and golden.
The hazel trees and the wild stars,
are still dancing with summer's ghost.

September: a memory.
Old tinted snapshots,
of quiet darting sparrows,
and a burnt rosy sky,
flood through the veins of the universe.

September: a sigh.
The sharp scent of a bonfire,
and the relief of the dying trees,
causes the whole world to drown,
in its newfound nostalgia.

 

  • Author: alienkid (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 13th, 2017 16:44
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 27


To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.