Poems

A F Harrold -poetryline
Poem

From Things You Find in a Poet's Beard by A.F. Harrold

 

Frost spins white lines

on the lawn,

grass turns glass-like,

crisp crackle-snap

underfoot.

Poem

Aren’t you cold and won’t you freeze,
With branches bare, you winter trees?
You’ve thrown away your summer shift,
Your autumn gold has come adrift.