by
Katrina DeLallo
An autumn rain falls, kindling the world.
The golden sunset, caught in boughs of trees,
Darts through like arrow-shots of flaming dusk,
Illuminating autumn’s rushing breeze.
An evening mist lies o’er the shadowed field,
Shot through with spears of sunlight’s waning flame
A wind sings through the boughs of dark-cast pines,
And on its flowing song I hear your name.
A drizzling rain, like autumn turning white,
Cries from the clouds and frosts the meadow grass.
The oak tree shreds the sunset into flags,
And transforms shards of mist to sunset glass.
The gloaming dusk and mist conceal the ground,
My eyes are further blinded by my tears.
We only had a summer, you and I,
I’d wagered we’d have half a hundred years.
The oak tree stands, a sentinel for your grave,
And nothing that I do can ease my pain.
We’d plans and dreams, for children, love, and life,
But now I’ve nothing, only autumn rain.
