Photo by Hanan Hashi on Unsplash

The last of the leaves are all wrinkled
Against the pale blue of the sky;
The grass seeds now drop and are sprinkled
Upon the snow tops; let them lie
On yesterday’s snow. Where it twinkled,
Tomorrow the spring will come by,
New flower buds wake up all crinkled,
To open their eyes to blue sky.

another poem for #POMwrimo