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Caught In The Toils Of Autumn

Hours, days, weeks rustle after;
the amber blizzard rushes after,
throwing dead leaves onto my face.
Caught in the toils of autumn,
Vampire tastes this brandy wind.
The cedar scent. The lump in the throat.
It tastes like heady salt of your skin.
Elixirless again. Why?
It smells like myrrh of your skin.
One needs your heart tonight.
Caught In The Toils Of Autumn
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: autumn,romance
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
written and first web-published in 2007.
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