The Official Blog of Clara Coulson
the summer birds are keeningthe autumn birds are preeningfor there's a whisper in the airand nature knows its meaningthe leaves are turning red and brownthe flowers going far to groundfor the cold is creeping from the northits wake bereft of lively sound the squirrels are dashing over the loamthe mice are digging deep and lowfor [...]
The first cold breath of wintercomes like an owl at nightthe silent swoop of speckled wingsthe joyful hoots of flightThe cold descends upon youa shroud that you will wearthe chill of bones and whitest breaththe cross that you will bearThe cold will cull the summer budstill their rhythm fades to blackthe snows suppressing wondrous songtill [...]
hand in hand and side by sidewe walk along the leaf-strewn patha rhythmic crunching matching stridewith the footfalls of the fading past our free hands hold the unlit candlesthat at dusk, will cast in orange lightthe relics of this annum's scandalsthat winter's cleansing will make right we'll place these candles in the lanternscarved with scenes [...]
patches orange, patches redbound together with the threadthat stitches tales of starry nightsfilled with warm fires and ghostly frightsthe shrieks of children all delighteddressed in gowns and masks, invitedto troll the the streets for scrumptious treatsand stuff themselves with moon-shaped sweetsbut in the morning, their laughs of joyare shoved in trunks with disused toysto be [...]
the morning dew is hardly risingsunlight on the far horizonyet in the violet murk, you spy themwild geese beneath the northern star the birds, they fly in no formationscattered wings catching loose dreamsfeathers falling from the seamskiss the grass like winter's final snow and at their flutter, you rememberthe tidings of a dark Decembera solstice [...]
