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Nov 2018

the passions of the night,
romeo’s serenade,
the landscape grows cold,
falls back into winter sleep.

a sparrow hops in the hedge
flutters its wings, sings songs
to buddha.


the night’s roses unwrap
their final petals, flower and
flower like a star beacon
gilding the trees with their golds.


the leaves are descended, their
rough edges torn bronze and red,
they cluster in the rain like origami cranes,
the colours of a winter sea that
hurry across the sky as cloud, a note book
of blue ink.  


a dance of night, a ripple
fading in an opal pool,
flower of the air,
flower of the night sky.


our love, drifting like the breeze,
tapping at the door,
deafening the world with its
loud sighs, blowing its grey
storms and silver clouds.
beth stclair
Written by
beth stclair  England
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