Crickets fall
from my ears.
A Vivaldi free-fall
on broken wings.
Relief trembles
on Autumn’s crescendo,
while in silence,
Summer weeps.
Post Script #PostItNotePoetry
Reply
Your feelings turned
and fell with the foliage.
Decayed beneath chilled feet.
The tempest stripped leaves,
revealing barren lines
of skeleton trees,
for winter yearns for autumn,
but spring does not wait for us.