Literature
Autumn Myths
The seasons form
a marriage of opposites. Two
exalted lights meet, both searching
a sky devoid of allegiance. It reads
like a prelude to creation.
-
Not cumulus, not stratus or cirrus: instead the
mists lie on gravel-throated greens, entirely indistinct.
We pass with caution through divine riot, knowing
very little except of the carrion: the treetops who
snatch celestial glory, gilt earth with futile pride.
They hope for a metamorphisis of old habits but
instead find fortunes are fleeting- goblin gold,
lifting with the skies as they fill with hoarse gloom.
We gathered some, plucked them from
the air for souveniers. Counted