Hades and Persephone

For my Aunt Judy.

Time flows,

By accusing hands,

Sifting down,

Like sand in a glass,

Like wind through hair,

Never coming back,

Summer days,

In dry gold heat,

Wind is hot and rare,

Like a lion's breath,

Birds are in love,

And the trees are full,

With merciful green,

Beneath their arms,

A dear two lie,

Fancy makes them smile,

As they relish the shadowed ground,

Youth discourses of goodbyes,

And yellow Summer cools,

To Autumn red.

Leaves pile like,

Crumpled corpses,

Butterfly corpses,

With vibrancy in dead veins,

Mother nature paints,

Leaves into the sky,

Red,

Yellow,

Orange,

Brown,

On blue,

To the den of summer,

The love birds flew,

The nights are longer,

The invisible is seen,

Magic and ghosts,

Are at home,

For the frosty days,

Nights are full of growing spirit,

Young voices,

Young bonds,

And then....

Red freezes to white.

Lingering sparrows,

Fill in where the branches,

Are bare and iced,

Day surrenders to quiet night,

To pages flipped,

And sleeping heads,

We're warm and far away,

In sinking beds,

The writer emerges,

Protected by a yellow lamp,

From white winds,

Behind shaking windows,

When one steps out in,

Aurora's dear dawn,

One is humbled by a sparkling,

World of glass,

Then white melts to pink.

Spring smiles in the face of dark,

With flowers and,

Sweet kissing rain,

Children flirt,

With the pulling of hair,

And the blushing of cheeks,

Mud pies are made,

Rain boots are clad,

Wind blows soft,

Like Daisy petals,

Or rabbit noses,

The birds bathe in dew,

The tears of innocence,

And the trees bear babies,

Like bright green eyes,

A daydreamer sighs,

And pink flames yellow again,

Time flows by accusing hands,

Sifting down,

Like sand in a glass,

Like wind through hair,

Golden hair in Hades' hands,

His stolen girl,

His flower,

Persephone,

His desire for changes,

Seasons.