The Flaming Women

The Flaming Women
Crimson atop her breast
Walks down the Moutain abaft
    The Avenue.
The raindrops cease,
Metre once
        Lively -
            (Iambic...)
Now
Lost in footsteps
    Scattered -
       
The streets are gold
    in days speckled light:
Trains evolving before Eyes
    darkened black and
    Dead;

Wee balach, colleen, mumbles:
    The people,
    The places,
    All let go,
    Flown by

The noise passes
    and they wait...
   
FVGIT INREPARABILE TEMPVS

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

I see a forest fire slowing moving down the mountain to engulf the valley and the town in her anger. I said it before; I'll say it again, I do like your style.