Autumn Filigree
The gray haze of autumnal fog drenches the leave-strewn grass.
Trance-like, lain within the wet air, like babies breath, the leaves fall.
A soft, damp, blanket of gold, filigree,
edges the green cloak of the Mother,
Her garb lays adorned with a pointed patterns of earthly stars.
Warmed so, by the abundance of her children;
caressed by the love of the Father, beloved, the Mother yawns....
stirring the leaves, yet again, the leaves arise.
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