Silent whispers flit through the air
Bringing with them cold wafts of winter.
Falling slowly the snow covers
All that meets the eye.
The land is bare
The trees all dead.
The leaves left are covered
Little dead bodies in the snow.
Melancholy shadows cloak the streets
Where no one walks.
The world is dead.
Waiting for the returning warmth
Of reviving spring.
well someone's in a bad mood. kidding, this is really good!
ReplyDeleteSeems like you dont like winter. I like your poem. It's short but it still says just as much as most of the other ones I've read.
ReplyDelete