The Void Is All An Illusion
Surrounded by lush emerald, jade, forest, and mint;
auburn, gold, and russet jostles within to herald
the celestial autumnal arrival. Ivy wraps the balcony
in a rhythmic pantomime with mountain breezes.
There’s a flap in that breeze. Once ominous, now joyous.
For the bones realize the void is all an illusion.
Your poem is excellent. The last line intrigues and satisfies. I love "Ivy wraps the balcony in a rhythmic pantomine with mountain breezes." Thanks for bringing me back to these wordle words, Donna. It was a good week. Glad you're here!
ReplyDelete~Brenda