AUTUMN MIST

first line in italics credit Fireflies-Owl City


AUTUMN MIST

I'd like to make myself believe
every morning an ochre color falls from the tree
which the ravens spread over the garden
the plants braided by forget-me-nots and tears
summertime which was awake now sleeps inside the pods
the old roots hide as they see the snow coming
the orange poppies contemplate the wind without dying
the garlic fall to my hands I raise
I believe
in the autumn mist