snowfall in the woods the silence stretches out in all directions
quiet wooded path dried leaves patter as they fall crunch under my steps
the wind pulls at me twisting me into new shapes forcing me to change ******* Participating in tonight’s prompt over at Dverse, for me, when I think of November, I think of change. Whether it’s seasonal or political, I always need to adapt to something!
the siren song calls harmonizing with the dirge of those who listened
When I restarted writing poetry, the first poems I wrote were haikus.
cold, midnight blue seeping in, mouth nose ears eyes I’m filled to the brim