Adapt
The wind whistles,
Strong and steady,A slightly colder breeze,For this change, no one is ready.The leaves leave home,Mature and set,Embarking on an adventure,That they won’t soon forget.
The water hibernates,Still and sound,Hardening its defenses,Water becomes one with the ground.
The sun takes a vacation,Droopy and tired,Slips off into slumber,Hot weather has expired.
The clouds carve ice cubes,Different designs on each one,Gently dropping them down,Winter has now begun.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.