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10/27/2009
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the lone of mistress fall
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as her season flutters by a slave of the wood and chilling air of the fox fire at her feet she hums the tune as she wonders through dizzy in the fall she hears it all but she cant hear him her wind blows her hair about beautiful silken discord the stuff of lullabies of drought her fingers wind around the branches in her path like longing long foretold bittersweet and needy as though a child set to pain her eyes stare vacantly outward as she talks to her forest the trees sway to her and the leaves caress her but the silence is killing her she hears it all but she can't hear him and still she waits as she mourns and still she waits 
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