Cloak of Silence
she wore that same faded yellow
the cloak of October I called it
of the dying and the fading away
cheeks like willow trees, hollow
jagged gasps, cutting
the warmth of memory
eyes holding the blankness
of infertility
as if life had fallen into dormancy
beyond conception
she would lift bony hands
trying to capture the living
in a frail grasp
but time was drowning,
slipping deeper into sleep
sinking beneath consciousness
and breath labored
across chest's deepening valley
to settle like leaves
in Autumn silence...
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