Her Future Glory

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It was a small flame, on a single tree leaning,

as if she’d been hiding,

high in the mountains

on a cool crisp morning,

revealing only a part

of her future glory.

I smiled remembering

her fire of yellow, gold, and red,

so I breathed in,

accepted the embrace

of the brillant fire

of autumn.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, 2019, ancient skies

Note: From my archives.

17 thoughts on “Her Future Glory

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