Watching skies turn grey Wind blown yellow leaves in flight Gliding in warm doors
Watching skies turn grey Wind blown yellow leaves in flight Gliding in warm doors
Colored leaves shifting Transforming before my eyes Falling silently
It is still early Everything may still change So, hope is the key
The last lawn mower To begin hibernation Roars past my window
New app and new insight into found poetry. I have been searching for found poetry, perhaps too hard, maybe this insight will help me find it. Betty G
Searching for insight With my head in the ether In this morning light
A day of shadows Visiting old memories Found in old scrapbooks
As all these colors are spreading across the sky and you are here now •
After the rain falls And I open my window I hear a new song
Beautiful pumpkin You have many Partisans This is your season
The rising tide 