Monday 10 September 2012

AUTUMN


for CR

I heard it from trees, burn leaves
gold through bronze into ash.
Whatever was gifted was burnt,
the flames silvering birches
with white heat, blackened elms,
a willow unwept in a cowl
of firecrackers. Come dawn, charred
limbs reach through the gunsmoke.
A fox bark coughs among embers.

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