As I walk along our lane on an early autumn, morning,
And thick mist decends upon me, there is a feeling I can't explain.
There is a stillness everywhere,
As if the world is waiting for some mysterious thing,
And magic is in the air.
Suddenly, from out the mist a tiny bird appears,
Then just as quickly he is gone. And only I exist.
Autumn Mist:
Mist is intruging, you can feel so claustrphobic with everywhere disappearing. Your poem is short but I got the vunrebility you felt all alone, even missing a bird's company.
http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57
Autumn mist.
Thank you for reading my poem, and taking the time to comment. I'm glad the essence of the work came across. :)