by frithar

Gathering

 
October came rushing in early, demanding
we listen to her winds while we were handing
fruit to basket from the tree-mother
 
and grabbing handfuls of her apple-skirt
shaking fireworks into dirt
one finale-burst-explosion, and another
 
We shuffle, gather through bee-lined grasses
 
Sun returns as cold wind passes.

First appeared in Time of Singing periodical

Forums: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.