...They'Ll Be Gone Before We Leave Poem by Les Littleford
...They'Ll Be Gone Before We Leave
Leaves carpet the grass
drifting like autumn snowflakes
in the unseasonal warmth.
On the rivers birds congregate
in noisy curious communion
uncertain whether to roost or fly.
The tourists and fashion conscious
parade and preen on the boardwalk
celebrating another last summer weekend
but in the northwest clouds are gathering
icing winter’s long fingers
and all will wither with the leaves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 2:52:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
