Golden Octobers
Limbs flailing under leaves
These rows of second sight
That go with the reeling —
Like a dream too much dragged,
Her strange flesh is peeling.
Limbs flailing under leaves
Scraps of a wood tongue speak
To the womanly walls —
Where they perish upon
Shadows of her by dawn.
Limbs flailing under leaves
Their temperaments cool down
As she sips tea of trees —
There alveoli kiss
Autumn flickers on green.
Limbs flailing under leaves
How groans the bark's glory
That thinks of drift in dark —
There a fallen place warm —
...none hold her in her loss.
Copyright © Paige Hind | Year Posted 2024
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