Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Autumn Confetti

You look up at early morning clear sky
washed pale by the sun.

What do you see?

Is it snow swirling, whirling down?
No not snow.

A dance of butterflies?
No not butterflies.

Birds then,
Beat wings in flight?
No not birds.

You see gold and crimson autumn confetti,
Thrown by the wind to celebrate a change of season.

1 comment:

  1. So beautiful and I can feel the brilliant shift of seasons in this poem.