Tuesday, September 4, 2007


Deep within the forests
Atop the mountain peaks
There's blue and green aplenty
But less of other hues

Crimson burns the brightest
Of the rarer shades
It quickens in the sunset
And marks the death of leaves

For crimson's fleeting beauty
Foretells beauty's end.


Anonymous said...

Love your poetry, TD. I don't know where invisible keepsakes comes from - maybe I could google it.

lala said...

but the beauty of crimson makes the death that is winter seem worth it. but it's a bittersweet feeling- knowing that it doesn't last.

lela said...