Red Winged Black Bird on a fence post in a field.

Autumn Drive


Category: poetry
Highway 3 up through rust-colored valley
Led my Olds out of the mystical land
Where autumn sun filtered through low hanging clouds
And yellow leaves danced like snowflakes on the wind

Comments (3)
You gotta pick the right guy to do the job.
Go out now and vote for LibertyBob.
Perhaps you never heard of me; I'm famous for my obscurity.