Tides Of Fall Poem by Thomas McKelvey
Tides Of Fall
Early morning
as Fall comes in
like the tide.
In the last rays of summer
I bathe
in the fog as it flows
the sun burns the sky
as it glows, in hues
of peach and blue
while the world cries
in a rustling scurry
of wind's sorrow
and the trees try
to drown me
in the first leaves
of fall, and all
I can do, is to
hold my breath
like it's the last
time, that I will
ever be happy, inside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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7/27/2025 8:42:06 PM # 1.0.0
