top of page

Evenings of Gold

The air has changed,

From hot to cold,

The leaves on the trees,

Are falling after being gold.

The sun sets a little early these days,

Leaving traces of love’s grace.

I walk past you,

You stare right back,

Even without any words,

The conversation we had,

Was magical like the sunset I clicked,

By the bay’s side,

Captured for the one who missed.

words for the day

bottom of page