The Poet Community

Tinge of Winter | A Poem by Ken Allan Dronsfield

The old barn moans and groans
as bones creak on this coolish day.

Stepping outside into fields of corn
I watch the winds conspire with
the grass to tickle the setting sun.

From a dark cloud drifting above,
a lone snowflake floats down and
stings the tip of my cold red nose.

I express a tinge of sadness as
my summer dream drifts away.

Twilight time chases the day away
near the dead crab apple trees on
the old farm where I once roamed.

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