light
in places of shadowed hearth
arms of candle fire reach through the window panes
into the breath of frozen lips, the ballerinas of frost who dance into sleep
on all the leaves in swathes of amber flood, the sun sinks down his head to rest
in beds of fire-colored moths, clumps of dew and bracken hedge
Just a short piece. Thinking about the warm and cold months of our year :) It's actually spring in New Zealand but autumn has been on my mind x