elise.writer

autumn leaves, they
fall to the pine-bathed
soil, and my heart falls
with them, and I think it's burning
too, burning too, for all it takes
is one glance into your
amber eyes, september sight, and
you've got my

I lay them in a mandala, the shards of glass

I pull from my back, one by one.  I let them

scar over, and I surround the mandala

in peonies, because the pain was not for nothing

Amber leaves cling
To umber trees reaching
Frayed roots deep into the ground.
They've told you time
And time again, "autumn is the season
Of the dead.
Green leaves rusting, flowers
Dusting over till the pink