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Poem for an autumn afternoon
15/10/2014
Fall
she speaks in whispers
her laughter is oblique
softly wrinkled skin of tawny loam
tangled russet tresses
voice, crushed velvet; eyes ocean deep
scent of woodsmoke and of fern
her lips, scarlet berry.
she takes her time
shedding bits of beauty as she goes
each day, a step closer to the wintry arms
waiting to enfold her colourful abundance
in their thin white embrace
©Petronella Devaney