how cool the hands
of early fall
the arms of winters yet
where promise keeps a bride
of snowy white
autumn grieves
the burning leaves
sheets to slumber pressed
as weary souls
remembered back
to light

beyond the fate
of silent lips
another sun is born
from ashes
how the wing’ed ones
do fly
up into the warm caress
foretold one summer night
when lovers cast their wishes
to the sky

. . .