Tag: fall poetry

  • recycled musings

    Autumn, we look back,
    who am I?
    I thought you were...
    
    supposed to know. 
    
    A sliver in tune 
    with cracks in my 
    voice
    reflected on lustrous
    cheeks. 
    
    Another dead-leaf
    labyrinth 
    to roam 
    alongside gentle kisses
    of burnt, balsam
    breeze.