Does cock mourn his ruby dawn
when January mounts the roofs?
Does maple turn virgin once again
after limbs relieve their burning
in brittle trails of sable?
Does clockwork regret each hour begun
and does naked forest know hurt amidst
tongues of nor'west wind in wail
as they loose themselves upon twig and root?
Is gentle noon buried with not one golden flower?
I huddled, casting questions to frigid moon
clasped within November hands grown cold;
watched the web dance, droop
as night grudgingly let go...
Found solace in the glimmer of summer caught.
Author notes
Image Credit: "Caught" by DxFx
Comments
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This was a very nicely written piece of work you have written here. I enjoyed reading this. It was good. Thanks for the read and keep up the good work.
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deep, deep, deep
Blue, quite an interesting and profound write. i enjoyed it...thank you.
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Beautiful piece. Beyond me for the most part, but that takes nothing away from the beauty portrayed.
Yep, you are definitely, truly talented! Thank you for sharing.
& Blessings,
~
~ Janet ~ ~
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