©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Like the wind, blowing, through your hair
Silently swaying, they do as they please
Soaking in fresh air, no time for despair
For winter’s iciness will do what it takes
To places, where the tall grasses grow
Alas, quivering, in the ripples on the lake
Is the last of where autumn freely flows
November Writing Prompt – Fresh Air, No Despair – Day 12/30
Photo and poem ©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Azure skies reflect in crystal waters, flanked by green grasses, and what were once the vibrant colors of the leaves. They’re faded now, turned to brown, but the colors still remain vivid in my eyes. Here is where I find a sense of peacefulness, a calm like no other, reaching through to my soul, a serenity in nature, held captive on this Earth. I walk softly, for fear I’ll disturb the silence that breathes here.
Stopping, I find myself sitting down on the banks, under the trees, feeling the cool breezes of the near-ending season, and I take note that winter is fast approaching, pulling the collar of my sweater closer to my face. How I wish I could bottle this incredible feeling. But alas, I cannot, so I must make good with the time she remains with me, and patiently wait for her to return from her lengthy respite.
And I shall remain here, long into the day, soaking in her beauty, for I do not yet wish to bid autumn adieu…