Autumn Wandering
I walk to the crestfallen edge
Of the beaten trail,
Laced with solemn departed branches
And perishing flaxen spades.
A single sparrow flits among
The trees that twist like veins,
But as I look up to call it by name
It swiftly darts upwards to the glinting sapphire frame.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: