The flame of swamp maples
fallen
sizzles cold black
in the still water;
yellow embers cool
on the frost-tipped earth;
yet
high
on
one
lone
tree
a candle of leaves
flickers bright
fanned by the breath
of the autumn sun.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
I am waiting for you. Where do you wait? In Florida with retirees? South along the Gulf of Mexico? All the way home to sunny Mexico? Is anyo...
-
Swaddled in warm, expensive furs a confident middle-aged man sits claustrophobically tilted in his carriage. Rain beats down on his compartm...
No comments:
Post a Comment