Counting Down

She was counting down the summer weather
Her book of numbers sacred and scared of the fall
Singular flocks birds of a feather
Were wearing down, curiously the geese and all

The hometown trees appeared throwing shadowy silhouettes
Someone approaching neared, holding tablets of old vignettes

Ascending through the gently waving branches
Holding a wand like pencil weaving webs of word
Pointing the tip at Time there nothing changes
Remembering the Light filling with leaves so stirred

Like days once so long are now as ever
She was counting down the summer weather...




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 1803 times
Written on 2025-08-30 at 17:19

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