I sit in creaking wicker chair
and bid farewell to summer heat.
Crimson clouds shout tomorrow's fare
as daylight begins its retreat.
A skeleton of bare twigs leaves
its stamp upon the autumn sky.
When season shifts through darkened eves,
I greet the change with mournful sigh.
Eventide rolls across the land
and lays its chill across my soul--
an emptiness I had not planned
when you were here to make me whole.
Author's note: The Epistle is an ancient Roman poetic form that appears in the Bible. It is a poem written as a letter to someone else, as described in the following link: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/poetic-form-epistle
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 12:15am on Nov 24, 2024 via server WEBX1.