Autumn
The Autumn crocuses sway
amongst the shadows of the pine trees
The air is resonant with smoke
As the buddleia dies down
August as thick as musk
Blackbird came a calling
about Autumns shortness
Somber yet always lonely
The impending storms
ignite the skies
Finding a talisman
To acknowledge the epiphany
August you are a gust of leafs
floating downstream
you are about heartfelt loss
Tameness is not spoke
Copyright © Antony Glaser | Year Posted 2023
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