Nov 28th, 2009 by Liz Bennefeld
Filtered autumn light,
speak to me of summer, gone,
and winter yet to come.
Color my vision with golden glory
and fill my nostrils with the scent
of those last flowers
clinging to vines
close by the window.
Speak to me of time past
and time that’s yet to be,
tomorrow’s promises.
Tags: November, Photo, poem
Posted in Poetry