top of page
On the horizon grows a season’s robes.
Faint at first, her hem glides and slides
through crystal haze. A murmur, a caress follows.
She spins gossamers of quilted colours,
rich in seams, through the tranquil twilight
of autumn’s peace rusting in the breeze.
Remembrance lingers in the mellifluous sighs
that kiss-chase the departing whispers
of promises left traced on sentient trees.
She spindles beyond her barren years,
gathering sways of a thousand chandelier sequins
dancing in the wooded roof atop towering boughs.
An appearance awaits behind the lifting veil.
Dressed for the occasion, the new arrival leaves.
read by Ali Harris
00:00 / 01:10
bottom of page