MosaicsA Poem by Budd BlackMosaics of red, orange, and gold Scattered all across the road Falling from the sky with grace Softly landing in their resting place Crunching under football cleats And children as they beg for treats Wrestling on branches against the wind Trying in vain to not break but bend Welcoming Winter’s chilling stare Autumn leaves fill the air
© 2013 Budd Black |
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Added on September 18, 2008 Last Updated on October 8, 2013 Author
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