Merrys Land
Candescence
Auburn plains spread before me while the sun dips in curtsy to the moon.
Violet hued reds against pastel periwinkles radiate out in a cloud of color amongst the obscuring fog, becoming spirits.
The weeping willow bows in its lonesome and waits for autumn's death driving gaze.
The warm grasp of steaming apples and the cool whisper of winter's arrival blooms moments so unique and so familiar.
Cinders and ash pierce through cavities barren and hallowed by years of sheltering storms.
Proffered supplies of acceptance present problems for denial.
Piceous
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