It's All About 'In' Versus 'Out'

I Wear the crown, I tear it down in my own way.

2 notes

August

The warm August sun envelops me

Filling my pores with shades of green and gold.

I breathe in the late summer,

Tasting the fleeting shades of orange and crimson hues.

Here and gone,

Never quite within reach,

Let me just enjoy this,

Before the leaves float and autumn falls.

Filed under summer poetry poem August

  1. bendoverbarbie posted this