Dusk Autumn
written by: Anthony John Ward
Autumn is to the seasons as dusk is to day.
The crepuscular colours stirring contemplation,
Granting hesitance to my thoughts
Receiving rewards through contemplation
While I harvest my blessings from the toils of life.
The crocosmia flowers become flames, licking the crisping air,
As the trees catch a light with slow conflagration,
Leaves dropping like cinders to the ground as the fireweed smokes-
The spent flora standing defiant like architectural ruins,
Before the sun sets the crusting clouds ablaze, smelting the horizon,
Forging metallic mists in the hard morning air.
Then the smouldering embers of summer are snuffed out
By the falling ash blanketing the land with winter’s warmth,
Leaving the charcoal silhouettes of trees
Standing defiant against the blanched watercolour horizon,
As night draws earlier with each passing day.
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