Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
False Autumn
Dripping and damp, another dull, dark day
Heavy and low, months-old cold, drifting mist
And sodden leaf-mould from the autumn past
Scented with coming life as it decays
The morning frogs sing with enthusiasm
The mourning doves sing with reluctance
A solitary goose flaps sort of north
All uncertain about their calendar
But for now eccentrics are happy with
Dripping and damp, another dull, dark day
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment