The End of Autumn Leaves
Leaves hellward fall in spiral dance,
Faith snapped by winter’s cold advance;
Now faded windburnt voices sigh,
And so do I.
Hues drained and choked to rusty grey,
Once pulsing veins shriveled away,
Lost orphans ‘neath a sad slate sky,
And so am I.
Toward the gloaming ill and vast,
The edge of present, future, past,
In hushed fast-forgotten goodbye,
And so head I.