Musings At The Fag End Of Fall
Standing on the threshold of winter,I look at her.Bonded have wethrough sixteen seasons of springas inch by inch, she grew so tallthat I failed to fathom how.Joy and laughter have I shared;comfort she has lenton those cloudy dayswhen solace I have sought.Letting out a long sigh,I now see her standbare sans her garments,bracing the wind that sweeps across.A tinge of sadness crosses my mind.Yet resolute she is,firm not to … Continue reading Musings At The Fag End Of Fall