The Departed Series (1)

As the last browning leaf hit the ground in a silent patter, the lines finally embraced to form a full circle.

Soft bristles from a paintbrush parting with elegance, could not compare to your eyelashes meeting for the last time.

As you took off like a baby Robin's first flight in the morning dew, She left footprints in the frost that are yet to dissipate.

Painting grace in the sky, a silent song bird is free but only heard in what was...

We part ways, until the lines can embrace again.

Feedback Note 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/z6va9c/why_does_a_poet_write/iy3wcd2?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share&context=3

Feedback Note 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/z6rv1d/the_river/iy3wtaw?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share&context=3

This is the first poem I've ever written! Nervous :)