Blustery wind roars,
They say a tempest comes.
At the door, Death knocks.
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At the End of All Things
PoetryMoons and suns rise and dip Below the horizon Yet still life flows onward In all of its glory Icy winter crowned in Mistletoe and holly and frost, Bound in crystalline perfection, Tender spring, sweetly singing Seductive in its melodies, Beckoning w...
Hallow's Eve: A Haiku
Blustery wind roars,
They say a tempest comes.
At the door, Death knocks.
