365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Thirty-Five

the trees are falling.
the cracking sound fills.
clean air stirred by a.
light breeze.

hurricanes have scared.
them all, yet the wish.
for days when this house.
was surrounded do not fade.

the chainsaw, the diesel truck.
seem wrong, sounds alien.
to natural beauty and.
another For Sale sign is across the road.

fence gone, kennel destroyed.
brown trailer and trees all.
that can be seen, a view.
long gone, though it was better.

this place has changed as all must.


About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

this side, that side

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