smell sweet and wet, lost their green
Pumpkins carved, once shined so bright
are now memories and mold
Short days, rusty sunsets turn
fast to cold and smokey nights
Two figures woven tightly
together, cashmere sweater
One in his thoughts, the other
beautiful,
have
both
fallen
© 2002
1 comment:
You were always good with words.
P.S. A backward poet writes inverse.
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