When I began this boat ride the playful muslin waves almost had a silk touch, days bright and nights velvety; darkness had a pole star. My words were songs, my heart a flower dream. I was dazed when hidden rocks crunched the boat muffling me. Now I let my flotsam-soul drift towards sunset.
a burgundy leaf
has no option but to drift
in autumn current
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #12 hosted by Thotpurge
Shared with Poetry Pantry #378 @ Poets United