This Poem was Submitted By: Lola Blaze On Date: 2000-04-02 21:04:56 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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November Dawn

At first a glimpse, A fleeting moment,  A trace left on bright eyes; Expectant eyes. Through misty autumn air Breaths forming minature clouds Coming faster with anticipation. The sweet smell of wet wood And damp earth. The silence echoing. A snapping twig. A backwards glance Pulled into the shadows.

Copyright © April 2000 Lola Blaze

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