Poem – Color and Sound
The last orange highlights
sink into the horizon.
Thin grey clouds float
across light blue sky.
Red-winged blackbirds
continue conversations.
Across the fields and wetlands
lawn-mowers cut through deep green grass.
The calendar tells me it is June
and with eyes closed I hear summer
but this evening has settled
for October.
I love this poem, it is amazing you could of easily been describing the feeling sights and sounds of England.
Thank you Willow! I’m happy that this poem is without place.