
Falling
Little brown leavesWhile surfing the sky,
Wither and wander,
Then crumble and die.
Flecks fill the fallows as
Winds wave goodbye,
Muffling the sound of
The Rain's Requiem cry.
Poetry by Clara Mae Gregory
Read 14 times
Written on 2026-06-23 at 11:42
|
Clara Mae Gregory |
|
Albert Vynckier |
