Autumn fairyland -
Twinkling reds and yellows...
Dead stars dance the sodden earth
in a frail imitation of joyous birth:
How they once danced!
They gathered and shimmered
with such intimations of vitality.
Now there is only this pathos waltz
across soggy dead cousins.
Autumn drizzle -
a softness that falls and falls...
A melancholic wetness
creeps into the heart of everything,
dirges whisper in the winds
that clang bare branches together
as if warding off the demons
winter always marches in.
Autumn twilight -
the light seduced by fading colours...
Everything resonates, saturated
with things already done.
It is a time of incubation
as that which has occurred
merges with that which still may.
Autumn slowly squeezes us,
like a gentle parent,
it forces us to retire.
It is a revolution of the senses:
it sits in judgment
and delivers us unto peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment