Whispering willow weeps of wind, In an Autumn knowing the highlands quiet Into later evening, A vast October storm front is brooding Amid the black arches of bats/a fluttering moth rises White as Christmas stars And in the stilling hush beside the cemetery gate A lonely firefly alight for the last time. 10/12/2003 Photo of Poem w/digital effect 2009
1 Comment
Sharon Gonzalez 26 Feb 2009
SO VERY VERY LOVELY, BYRON.