The genteel browns of Autumn compliment
The emergence of war; first to draw them
“He is still with me” she knows
with all she is.
A raven’s piercing shriek, as it passes
Soft reflection bathed in dawn’s forgiving
Entities, living each other’s love.
So many events to fit in a rhyme,
So much negativity there is no doubt
Can we let go? I believe that is the key
Enough heavy words, time to lighten the
Contemplating forsaken, his knees meeting
faiths foundations creaking.
As if in ethereal farruca she
danced before his eyes, gloom dissolves.
A remembrance and recognition, of a past,
he cannot place,
Alas, this resonant oscillation dims to
Now the ascetic sitting, his back against
the wall, cold.