Autumn Lake

Perched with pretzel legs

   Her favorite earthen cup by her side,
   She’s embraced by her lover’s sweater.

A gold beam grazes the top of the birch trees.
   Glitter dances its way across the water,

   To kiss the top of her head.

A slow, deep drum–
   A funeral dirge.
   No one has died;

   But everyone is gone.

Labrador’s tongue            laps;

   An insatiable thirst.

Crisp dollar bills hang on the breeze–

   Some fall and tumble,

   Rolling like distant applause

A teakettle fretting.

A dumpling dropping into soup.

Cotton sheets snap in the wind.

A wooden rocker softly whimpers,

   Slow and steady–

   It’s joints aching.

A poetry style that does not define what is envisioned but offers descriptions of the sounds.

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