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Autumn
November 13, 2015
Through the soft spoken wind of a sunny scene
I hike in a palace of green
The metallic rocks shine through the trees
Like tin foil balls formed by a preschooler
The leaves floating in the wind
Like torn kraft paper
Slowly they stray away, but the wind picks up
I hike on
The various smells of maple and bark make an appearance
Along with the moon that shines through the breeze
Its eyes glaring down at me
As I stray along the greenery
I make my way home
In the newly born scenery
© Kathryn R., Shelby, NC
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I mad this to show my love for poetry and Autumn