Archive - March 2014

The Withered Yellow Leaf

Below the rusted park bench,   there was a shimmering hue. I bent down with a trembling hunch,   searching for a clueless clue . In the corner of the sprinkled grass,   I found an yellow leaf . Its texture was as bland as brass ,   it look withered , gripped in terrible grief . As though it waited for a touch like mine ...

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