DISHABILLE
DISHABILLE
All to night, to bed are growing
A frenzied and forgetful flowing
The apple dappled wood goes down
Where the summer sun once built a town
Of busy flowers but where towers stood
There lies an eyeless neighborhood.
The maples toss their crimson clothes
Birches shed their yellow camisoles
Gingko drops its golden skirt
Black walnut shreds its tattered shirt.
Naked limbs entwined they lie
On banks of blackened cloud and sky.
The trees go naked to their winter beds
Beneath the snow they bow their heads.
Amen!
This is very beautiful. Perfect.
Why thank you! I’m wondering if you are one of the Michelles I know.