It plays on strings of
fallen leaves and keys
of changing winds...
Its lyrics are written
on shorter days closing
sleepy eyes...
The voice is full
resonating beyond every
breath taken and every
moment captured in
its sweetest song.
I'm flabbergasted. This poem informs the reader things about autumn that we take for granted, and it does it in a laid-back, passionate way. The whole poem is quotable, so I shan't (love that word) quote. I will, however, say that the poem influenced almost every emotion, from the concerto of the fallen leaves to the whole ensemble of the moment at the end. Damn good, rich, pleasurable writing.
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splendid poem, Myrna.
john
Regis
Ron
budd
Cheers moi spp
Dan