Late September Trees

slowly revealing their threads

stitched into the cooling sky

begin giving back the flames

flinging them across the fields

blown kisses trying to keep

the sun from dying

their frozen black lightning

will crack the roof of winter

flake it into brightness

 

hope I will sleep like these trees

the marrow of our bones

slowed but kept smouldering

with dreams of fire

the whisper of heat from our skin

keeping the old leaves dry

ready as tinder to ignite flowers

extract colours

from the white world

 

 

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