Dreams do not come true;
they fall softly like snow with
hope never fading

Brisk autumn wind tosses
reds, yellows, oranges, browns
leaves to frosty ground

Red-breasted robin
perches on gray stone
above Easter-lilied grave

Sit, watch from a train;
Turquoise, ruby lightening breaks
The morning frost, kingfisher!

Comments (1)

-0001-11-30 00:00:00johnywalker
I love it. This is number 1 .