The
leaves are glistening bronze and gold upon the earth,
burnished deep by the flecks of light and melancholy rain...
droplets floating down do hold still the celestial width and girth
of a fiery sun in his throne and flame-ringed reign...
the leaves are bronze dragonflies encased in a shining seal,
cooled with the kiss of afternoons, dew-tinged by moisture's hand...
my throat is closed still and my heart in memory does feel
the wellspring of love that drifts throughout this golden land.
The
moss is soft as dew upon the black of soil,
veined with silvery frost, and feathery upon the face…
pools of rain lie damp and still upon a kingly spoil,
the gold of leaves, winged denizens felled with quiet grace.
O
plated armor of my heart, ‘tis shed in earthly throes,
at the sound of tinkling music wherever my love goes.
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