Andy Smith, poetry

The Last Throes of Summer


heather turns brown

leaves flutter

into pools of mud

 

tears of despair

carried by clouds of hope

flee across skies

 

of blue tinged with grey

as life migrates

a season passing by

 

plays out one last time

every nook and cranny

warmed by dying rays of light

 

insects play one final scene

before lives end

as the sun sets

 

on a barren landscape

that goes to sleep and

awaits the return of life

Published by

The Autistic FellRunner

I am a 52 year old male with a late diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. I enjoy writing in all forms about people and life. I enjoy running over the moors where my mind can be free from the stresses of everyday life. I am currently studying for a PhD in autism and aging. I hope you enjoy my writing and please feel free to leave a comment. Thank you for taking the time to visit my site.

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