autumn leaves glow from within
sun-caught jewels
spice is in the air
Slivers of night are falling into day
and the breeze is carrying
the memory of morning
The sludge of toil is washing away
a wind is blowing-
like that first quiet breath
which awoke my soul
Twelve red roses floated to me
-your hand is warm
we are silent together
stones beneath our feet
listening for the wind, the birds, the muse
The clouds are gauzy and colourful
rolls of darkness are hurrying behind them
night is coming
our words grow misty
We are climbing together.
1 comment:
glowing... warm..
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