Woke up this day
to a golden sun
that cast even
the bland city...
pretty
House showing
frosted rooves
patiently awaiting
reindeer hooves...
bracing
Bundled walkers
with their carts
headed home
from shopping marts...
contented
Autumn's breath
a crisp, clean scent
I wondered where
the summer went...
so quickly
I yawn and stretch,
leave the window pane
and check the news
it calls for rain...
so typical
YOU ARE READING
Poems Primarily Narrative (or not)
PoetryFIRST PLACE COFFEE AFTER DARK WRITING CONTEST - JULY 2020 This collection has no particular category or message. They are errant thoughts and observations on various subjects. If interested, I hope you find some you enjoy.
