A sepia Sunday
And I'm looking back
At summer fading gently
Into brown.
A cool south-westerly
Sets the lake a'shimmer
And the crows are shining
On the naked Ash
Oh now I can see
The way I've taken
Out of a milky sun
And my winding path
Shines at me
Smiling
Winding its way
Brighter where I had to stop
Always wandering
But following me
All the way to now
Where ticking wrens
Sing glowing songs
To the bright red Rowan tree.
#poetry
Matthew /
npub17t…ym390
2024-08-25 10:47:59
Author Public Key
npub17t5n8xvz4ksqjq5l25w2jp5lldztuqaw8pfv8y9aqsyg2aye92fqkym390Published at
2024-08-25 10:47:59Event JSON
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"content": "A sepia Sunday\nAnd I'm looking back\nAt summer fading gently\nInto brown.\nA cool south-westerly\nSets the lake a'shimmer\nAnd the crows are shining\nOn the naked Ash\nOh now I can see\nThe way I've taken\nOut of a milky sun\nAnd my winding path\nShines at me\nSmiling\nWinding its way\nBrighter where I had to stop\nAlways wandering\nBut following me\nAll the way to now\nWhere ticking wrens\nSing glowing songs\nTo the bright red Rowan tree.\n#poetry",
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