Beauty No Less
A light breeze rustles
the leaves, their scent mingling
with that of nearby oaks
showing just a hint of red.
Just as the honeyed tea
passing over my lips refreshes,
so, too, does the cool water
trailing over my fingers.
And what of those leaves, dry,
yet not, as they fall and settle
on the water? Is their beauty any less,
now, than in their green spring glory?
The prompt for NaPoWriMo.net Day 25 is to write a poem that:
• is specific to a season
• relates to the five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell)
• includes a rhetorical question
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