I stood, murmuring to reticent moon
as autumn adorned with russet and gold
blew past the graveyard harshly
binding with briars, past hopes and dreams.

I held onto the remains of a wilted rose
reminiscing beneath the morning sun.
Torn amid right and wrong, I had forgotten
what’s real, and now shades ofΒ forbearance
have woes concealed.

I gazed upon the fading hues of green,
as autumn gestured to the begrudging trees,
binding with briars, past hopes and dreams.

 

Photo credits:Β Pinterest

Posted for ‘Sunday Mini-Challenge’ @ Real Toads

and Posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United