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The Eve
January 2, 2014
She steps through the portal
into a morphing summer;
shades of green to amber uproar;
wind cuts leaves;
burned as they turn
like shadows casted
by time.
Each stride
she shatters
a lumbered tree’s skin,
as a grayscale consumes
entirety;
encasing her temper,
preparing for December.
The black-feathered crow
stalks from a
limb,
waiting for dusk
to suffocate
her figure.
But her garnet heart
is willing to survive
as she glides side by side
with cool air and dark sky.
She lets herself slip,
becoming one with it all,
becoming one with the fall.
© Bhuvaneswari R., Sleepy Hollow, NY
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