DSC04628 Indiana Barn.jpg

Autumns New Fire


Autumn, …whirls in like a strange angel

Its touching is sacred and cold.

All gloriously bathed in  frostweed down, purple ironweed and goldenrod;

Burning hues that glow in the dusty hollow where the wingless live and have been silent.

A seasoned, ash winter will relinquish and venerate to a winged spirit of the freshly awakened birth-


Tommie Flannery Baskis- Writings by Duskflyer Vision-2016


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