Transition
The days lose their sight
as the autumn comes,
the air gets crispy
and the mountains sigh,
the hills drift slowly
into winter sleep,
covered by hummed silence
and the leaves' soft quilt,
the fields turn drowsy
and the clouds hang low,
the earth gets cosy
and then falls first snow
poem by Amber Breeeze
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
