the moon glows brightly
her corners smudged
at the edges,

night drinks from a holy well,
a cavernous black sinks
into the dark lakes of the skies,

sinks further and further
autumn is awakening
loosening her hair
that falls in a golden net,

the first leaves crackle
in smokey knots,

sink beneath
the honeys of an
autumn sky,

lost in the woods
that start to trickle in a
stream of fiery gold
from branch to floor,
where the stars
still sing of the last spells
of summer.