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.

No comments:

Post a Comment