In the lush effervescent green I miss the mother winds of autumn that gently cradle the fallen leaves to their sleep. Departed, I seek a return to the crackling amber contrast that so resembles life, that is, eyes scrolling the embers with the chill of what’s behind. Laced into the hearts of the crinkled tear timbers is the soothing song of the mother wind. It whispers a howl and wisps away the foul ash of the fire. In the blossoming I miss they grey which is lapped about by the fires tide. A celestial union of dying and combusting hopes.
-M