Just a seasonal end.

Just a seasonal end.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

The last of summer wine
came the fall,
he was buried in winter.

© 2017 andrew mitchell


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we hide under the leaves and then the deep snow of our problems...that bottle is a temporary fix...once everything thaws...we will remember again...just as vividly.

Posted 8 Years Ago

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Added on August 5, 2017
Last Updated on August 5, 2017

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..