The pages are running out
The music box's plinking tune
Is slowing, and the moon
Is a tiny crescent weakly glowing
The grass is fading, turning brown
The vivid red leaves are drifting downwind
As if the breeze is burning
And the masks on the trees
Are gone, and have been given to the sky
The clouds trudge along and it's ambiguous
Whether the sun is even there anymore
My pen is dimming, the ink is dripping stuttered words
And the birds have stopped their fluttering
The flowers are closing
The hours are getting longer
The ground is getting stronger
My voice getting weaker
And as the sun hangs in the sky
For a shorter time than before,
So does my smile
October is over
It's November now
And all I can do is remember.
YOU ARE READING
Jars of Stars
RandomThis is a collection of the poems I've typed up on my iPad. I've noticed I enjoy incorporating nature and space into my poetry, so if you dig nature and space read my poems! Some of them are dark, some are brighter, some rhyme and some are just word...
