Linger down good ol’ Briggsmore or McHenry;
sun-bathed tulip trees and queen palms line these
rarely wet streets plastered with autumns’ leaves.
Murmurations of starlings eclipse Scenic’s foothills.
Submitted to MoSt for inclusion in the Stanislaus Poem.
You have painted a spiced, wet picture and I was transported to it. This was moody, flavored, infused. Fine, fine poem. :)
Very kind of you.