Poem- Slow Dance with an Aspen Tree

Wind is the music,
Gentian, the aphrodesiac.
Leg against leg
Leaves whisper in my Ear.
The masculine roughness of your bark against my face.
My sap rises, even though it is Fall.

-by Terra Rafael

Poetry - Autumn Poems

The trees,
as though trying to warm cool autumn airs,
burn
with leaves of fiery hue
until they’re left
burnt bare
against the winter sky.

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Warm Autumn Moment

This warm autumn moment
crisp, sunny, dried leaves chacha to the song of the breeze.
The sky burns bluely.
This warm autumn moment
a boy asks why people gather.
He asks if they discovered gold.
This warm autumn moment
the leaves are the gold,
the boy is the sky,
& I am the chacha to the song
of the breeze.

*******

Slow Dance With the Aspen Tree

Wind is the music,
Gentian, the aphrodesiac.
Leg against leg
Leaves whisper in my ear
The masculine roughness of your bark against my face.
My sap rises, even though it is fall.

by Terra