Fall fell last night
leaving wet leaves layered upon layers,
thin as filo, only not as brittle.
The little seed pod that snaps
and pops underfoot, weary under
the moist sticky organic pastry blanket
reaches down through the green shafts
into the soft soaking soil searching
for its solitary silence.


About Bokb

Let my inspiration flow....
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Blanket

  1. Hope says:

    That was really beautiful!

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