A single red featherlay across the moonof her bellyand my fallow gardenwears a frosty blanketclouds like…
Fallen angels in the snowrecollect structure,fascia pulling distant strands to reconnectthat which was all but lost.
Summer’s end,
The Mórrígan’s song,
It falls to earth,
Wandering,
An old reporter burns his clippings to stay warm but then he has nothing left.
Ice lingers,as rust corrodes,woods stand naked,frozen inmatesof winter’s internment.Howling windssneak and sleet, death’s frosted fingers…
At end of day
Before the dark
Diamonds rain down to earth,
Shattered clouds,