Late to the party, but at least I'm in attendance this month! This one is a poem from Fall . . .

My poetry sisters and I agreed to write a poem in hymn meter this month (think almost anything by Emily Dickinson, or Amazing Grace, or the Theme to Gilligan's Island, or the Yellow Rose of Texas). Here is mine.

I have a secret, said the Fall,
that nobody may know.
I whisper it through rustling leaves
that fall before the snow.

I know that it appears as if
death comes to growing things.
The truth is they are just asleep
and will awake in spring.

You can find the others' posts here:

Sara with If Apples Were Dappled and Sweet
Tricia with Autumn Song
Tanita with Keeping Emily's Sabbath
Liz with It Doesn't Feel Like Fall
Laura with An Old Dog in Autumn

Find the rest of the Poetry Friday posts by clicking the box below: