Wings of Promise
Crispy sun-drenched autumn wafers
Some dressed in gold and lime-green
Others shine in red and copper hues
And a few showcase their inky prints
Fluttering like geese into the blue, they
Wave good-byes to a dying mother tree.
Spiraling on their way down… a few
Red rebels take to sudden heights
And hop the chilled November gust
In hope of landing in the wide open
Veins of a thirsty riverside promising
A chance to breathe another brand of life.
In the darkened mountain top
A tired aging sun is also going down
And turns his head to take another glance
At the twirling featherweights drilling
Through the air and scrambling
For a final place to end their flight.
© 2015 jjméndez