Saturday, September 25, 2010
The first of autumn gathered clouds,
Still the sun managed to break free…
A waterfall of sunbeams dropped,
Into the sea of mercury.
The winter tint approaches,
Removing colors from Depoe Bay…
Like water wrung from dish rags,
I turned my back and moved away.
I found my piece of driftwood,
While searching the summer’s shore.
Completing my collected memories;
No need for staying there anymore.