AUTUMN SONNET

Photo by S. Auberle

 
I asked you, once, what happens

when dreaming comes to an end.

When light that falls through the trees

no longer seems able to tend

to those dreams into which we leapt

long ago, now grown cold

and autumn closing in,

brash, blustery and bold

and wind stripping leaves bare

from trees that once sheltered us,

life and death beneath my feet

now become just dust.

O my heart, help me remember

in every cold fire remains an ember.

~  Mimi





An old favorite, from "Crow Ink," published by Little Eagle Press 2009