The colors changing ever so quickly.
The temperature dropping with every day that
Passes.
Trees turning naked every night.
Grass getting more wet every morning.
The snow, that is on it's way, is what
Everyone fears.
But me, I do not fear the cold or the snow,
I fear the two words I never
Want to say to you.
When tomorrow comes, The River will flow
and flood all that is around it.
i can only surmise those two word as 'good bye'. who's permanence i never use myself. as sure as winter will come, so too shall spring return. well done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful metaphor, great piece.