msquared's picture

The moon-beams
Infiltrate the canopy
Painting platinum mosaics
On the gasping ground
In the lullaby
Of fall’s chill breath
Nursing the world
Back to grateful slumber
As the world
And sways
To atmospheric cadence
Whistling an
Austere tune
While it plummets
Through the dark between
The branches and
The chasms in my corneas
Frigid fingers
Flutter in my fantasy
Grazing my skin with
Bullets of ice
Sand loses gravity
When you’re waiting for a dawn
Too ashamed to shine