
Laughter of October
Mirth at sunset:
herons scream like children
in the shallows,
golden shafts of light
play with the shadows
of auburn leaves —
Come to me,
stay awhile,
for the laughter of October
is upon my face,
a golden glow,
a raging fire that hides
in the Indian summers
of my heart.
D. G. Vachal Β© 2012, 2014
Image by digital2 @flickr commons
Lovely β¨ππ
Thank you, Susan!
Absolutely love, love, love the line: “The Indian summers of my heart!”ππ½β€οΈ
Thank you so much, Ellen! I too love the concept and meaning of an Indian summer. β€οΈππ