Thursday, November 12, 2009

Miles' Poem


Frost stealthily
settles on the cold
November grass

Leaves cling onto
bare branches
as they plummet
to their death

Squirrels straddle
for hibernation

Lakes wait
to be hushed to sleep

Children brace themselves
for November
birds drift south
as the day creeps by

takes it final turn
as the day retires