A September Gloaming

The flower suns have fallen,
Releasing small sleeping stars
Encased in beetle shells
Into my hands.
I sit, pensive
Looking at where the high petals were -
Their gold pink now given to
Gloaming September skies,
The blood blush in the cold.
Maybe nothing goes 
But is in another place to find
As the world turns. 
Still, it is harder to see in the dark
And I prefer to be barefoot
With the transient flowers at twilight.


LJ Ireton 2023 

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