All Hallows
When we were young
the high green trees were holy
ancestors never met
guarding us.
Still they attend our paths.
But in the late year
when one and another
turn scarlet and crimson or gold
among their peers
they suddenly startle,
archangels among us,
or spirits
returned from that other place
toward which the heart tends.
1 comment:
Oh, that is lovely. I have enjoyed the colors so much this year, and they are still with us. Perhaps the drought intensified the hues.
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