autumn's eve

she waits for winter
cannot see beyond
the dreary desolation
of the ice dead ponds
autumn is not final
enough or cold
to destroy desire
the memories so old
they wake her up
in darkness driving
her to pace beneath
the starless sky
she does not want to die
but moon and madness
memory and sadness
all bound together
in the leaf scented night
inspire her to desperation
in the autumn light



©  1993 J.L.Stanley
labyrinth