9.08.2012

crisp pink slipper apples fall into
cinnamon warm aroma rising from
ceramic mugs warming my hands my
heart chilled by Autumn's kaleidoscope of
colors swirling around me, brushing the
bricks beneath my feet hold memories and
embrace the mystery of seasons gone, to come

5 comments:

Brian Miller said...

nice...love the cider smells...and the play there in the end as well with the ending and still to come....

She Writes said...

absolutely enjoyed this. gorgeous first lines and ending leaves me anticipating what's to come.

Dana Dampier said...

I love this poem! It's pretty perfect!

jane hewey said...

i adore how slippers and feet ring with each other in this. I am savoring your delicious words.

patteran said...

Sharp and sweet!