Whispers--The Eve of Autumn
Whispers
are the dreams of trees
that fall away
during the eve of autumn
sun-swept are days,
hot august nights,
everything seems serene--
but the city streets
are forever burning.
Footsteps, like those
painted as stars
upon the canvas of the dawn
darken my vision,
just as the past
has darkened my forgiveness.
I cannot accept
this bitter taste in my reasoning
you, my silence surrounding,
are my sweetest sorrow.
Karin Pierson
Flushing, MI