Fall in Scargill

By amlee

Thu, 26 Sep 2013

2 comments

Faith ascends

as York mists descend

brooding Breath heavy hovered upon

faltering footfall in stony echoes

shredded souls riven and rising

to crook knees, drop

plealess and crumple

beneath rough hewn beams

hallowed by penitence

As a watery sun weeps upon

downy dales rolling cold as death

Green finches peck in famined frenzy

for last corn, for last song

Votives voiceless glimmer

glow urgent, fervent.

Then in stinging silence the Spirit comes

sifting dross to glean for gold

till hollow hearts fill, flow

and autumn leaves bleed

break from bough, tremble

contrition in wait of winter's raze.

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sun, 2013-09-29 12:54

Wonderful writing, amlee. Well done on the cherry - more than deserved.

Tina

Permalink Submitted by amlee on Sun, 2013-09-29 22:05

Thank you Tina for reading, and editors for the lovely cherry!

: )

Andrée