Autumn Bones.


Leaves, like scattered crayons

cast aside by childish hands

lie forlorn.

Trees, disrobed. Naked, stand

vulnerable like bones without

the flesh.

Their stark outline stabbing

at the softness of the mist

curving their silent frame.

© sweetwater 2023
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Incredible! You have used a good title to interest the reader and it is so pertinent at what follows.
Every line filled with feeling and observation and the last three lines just exquisite!

(I see you at a tall window with small panes looking out at a grey landscape as you put your thoughts down to paper. )

So there is a connection without and within.
One for the next anthology 😉
Alison x

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