i.

november empties
its ghosts and its clouds
unwinds like falling leaves
in the ivories of a bright dawn.

ii.

shadows sing then
die with the rising sun,
fastening her buttons
of smoke and cloud
the sky lies like a leaf yet to fall.

iii.

vowels glide on the wind
like little seas of sober
waves.    

iv.

the soft ambers of the sun
break and spill
remind us that we are
wild oceans of love
that we too can burn.