It’s the last days before autumn.
my aura expels over my dreams
like the pink sunrise peering in my rattling window.
My dog burrows her head under my leg
between blankets & the navy color of dawn’s light.
I’ve passed onto another existence—
The rustling of the breeze tells stories of the vibrations
& her transformation under the moon from green to bold red.
Her branches stand tall on the mountain;
Leaves swaying softly—
a palette of the goddess’ kisses.
On the last day of autumn,
Air & Earth will commune
in a current of messages.
Leaving the red kisses on the doorsteps of children—
My neighbor, a little boy with a soccer ball
will hold the red leaf to his face—
& the wind will knock & howl at a girl’s window–
awakening the daydreamer, tracing hearts in the dust–
a meeting of laughter will echo
& as winter arrives,
the echoes will warm the maple tree
awaiting to spring with fairy tales
defined in the death of her leaves.
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Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: courtesy of the author
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