Half Life Poem by Leslie Philibert
Half Life
When the early mist
rolls down the Inntal
and tired rain
hits the early window
and speaks in a broken voice,
splashes like tyres on tarmac
your small engine of breath
stretches under trapped linen
you are closed
and distant.
Late Autumn. Time for frost.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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4/23/2024 4:41:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Verily, end of one season is the begin of another season bringing joy and sorrow, in stipulated periods. Loved reading it