Autumn Equinox

leaves avnue shea oct 2015

 

Turning of the season,

from life

to death.

Ghostlike  we move from one to another.

Ends and beginnings,

beginnings and ends.

Tears falling, silently

upon sodden soil.

Like apples, falling from the tree.

Bruised.

 

Still,

hidden within, a heartbeat

waiting for Lambtide.

©Shullie H Porter  2017

 

Idun and the Apples by James Doyle Penrose (1890)

Published by The Delightful Mrs P

Witch, Writer, Card Slinger, Chocolate Lover, Tea Drinker, Cake Eater & Mystic. A Northern Lass, a Walker between and betwixt. I'll talk to Anyone, dead or alive.

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