The Morning Wind

The Morning Wind

 

An errant breeze ruffled curtains

A glimpse of indigo sky

The morning star

proudly incandescent

 

There’s a whispering in the cane

Something’s afoot

And the wind is spreading the news

Dry stalks rustling

Leaves twisting like desiccated snakes

 

The mountains glow like a painting

In the burgeoning dawn

The wind is stronger now

No longer playful

Its sudden sorties menace

Then go still

Where is it now

The soughing in the branches

As they quiver and dip

Leaves dancing

The birds are strangely silent

Only crickets ring a monotonous dirge

 

No sun, yet shadows

Firmly etched give definition

To the hills

Lights flicker and grow dim

As leaves all spent

flutter to the awakening ground

Autumn
Autumn
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