Yellow red leaves falling from almost naked trees,
The tall stems look black, rough, and withered
Dry, brown, sharp blades of wild grass, till knees
There’s a broken fence, of no use, rusting
Birds can no more hide into leaves
an ode from the skylark is a music of hope
echoing softly through the fields
my heart listens to the autumn melodies
I must cross the fence, I wonder often
To see the different landscapes far away
The earth is so precious to store the rotten
Fences divide the land, keep them at bay.
@ soul n spirit All content and photos are my own. No usage without written consent.
In response to crimsons-creative-challenge-157/