The first of Autumn’s Days
Dawn,
the crouching eyes
of wings
and black,
over the last
of summer darkness,
the stars swallowed
in the emptying,
the blackness
of a fading blue,
and to the west
and east,
in front
of the ragged ships
of a worn
and forgotten sky,
lightening flickers
and fades,
flickers and fades,
crashing in sheets
of power and steel,
the metallic thunder
of igniting fields
and hedges,
woodlands
and rooftops,
the hidden raptures
of illumination,
the shattering
of shadows,
the race
of time and turning,
the fading memories
of summer,
the fallen wings,
the ravens ravenous,
remember
and with rancour
the birth
of the first
of autumn’s days.
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