Wednesday, 17 June 2020

The quiet bare tree


As I sit under the quiet bare tree, some birds chater away
among the vast green grass. The cold gray breeze blows the
fallen autumn leaves around, Thinking that winter is coming.
The smell of fresh grass and air fills my head. I hear the
faint sound of the people in the gym. The bright sun
trapped behind the grey clouds. 

1 comment:

  1. Fraser you have such wonderful descriptive language in this story. I know you worked hard to make it sound poetic and it does a little. Well done.

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