Autumn
Golden leaves sing into sunset; rustic songs from night pass beyond horizons. A new air trails by through moon’s wake, its silvery coat waxing beneath grey clouds. Azure soups churn as ice across sacred sunbeams, now waning towards winter. I see first light streaking; fiery cocktails of gold, yellow and red rustle within wind, occasional thickets or burnt lumber. Then, dominating every spectacle lay magnificent lakes. Water dribbles like sequent spots, each drop bouncing against the rim, casting rainbows below mighty stars – suns, earths alike – lest it dies, sleeping afar—while chilly tides, hours claims us, lingering this finite eternity.
Now that was short wasn't it?
