Autumn 3
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 ephemerality
Somber yet always lonely
The impending storms
ignite the skies
We strife to Find a talisman
To acknowledge the epiphany
August you are a gust of leafs
floating downstream
you are about heartfelt loss
Tameness is not spoke
callousness is her hallmark…
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