An inebriation in its way…

Oh, but of course, the Fall has its sweetness in its way
The sunsets are trickling honey on the fruits
and seduced, you wake up by the sun they gathered in their pulp

The leaves have a a new whisper to sing
more resigned, more whiny
the ghosts have gathered to council
and their misty gowns
are spinning through the city

Oh, but of course, the Fall has its sweetness in its way
when you crash the grapes and
the new wine is boiling on the lips and
in every arbour an odalisque is waving her hips

The leaves have a new whisper to sing
more resigned, more whiny
The ghosts are dripping mist
Early in the morning, at their gathering

Oh, but of course, there is place for death in the leaves
But only in the Fall, it seems
its smell is intoxicating enough
to spin and pass the threshold

6 thoughts on “An inebriation in its way…

  1. Dom

    ”Oh, but of course, the Fall has its sweetness in its way….”

    And this poem has its sweetness in its own way…
    and i can hear those beautiful leaves whisper the song, the melody embedded in between the lines of this poem.

    Reply

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