Autumns New Fire

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… Continue reading Autumns New Fire