
Splashing across fragile veins mother nature’s tears washed away the remnants of the day. Her tender heart realising with autumn charismatic colours travelled the onslaught of spring. Soon they would litter the ground. In its carpet of illusion, life would still find a way to install hope. A whispering wind allow them a brief interlude of movement before they disappeared over the horizon.
https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2021/10/04/pcf-6-rain-dance-wilderness/
Lovely poem Diana. This is prompt hosted by Paula, not me.
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I’m still getting used to ping backs. I copied and pasted it there too.
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That’s cool.
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