Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 72.0: September 28th, 2007

Autumn Leaves
by Belinda Roddie

Spinning wheels and painted faces, the festival leaves traces

Of ash and sand on every spot that it stands

It says, “Offer me kindness in these festivities

And I will make you the color of autumn leaves.”

 

Melting ice on powdered lips, puckered in a hideous kiss

Upon a dragon’s snout as he offers yet another stout

To satisfy the ones who ooze mud from their pores

While molten silver in their fingers is sucked into their arteries

Their faces are covered in sores as they age like autumn leaves

 

Calming flame that burns my cheeks and turns my eyes from a forest green

To a smoky gray, as if I were blind and could not see past my own mind

But I see colors, red and blue, on the noses of silly youth

But the blue is from silly tears of off-kilter joy

As they tear the limbs off of their wooden toys

The soldiers in bloody piles, but smiles still aim to please

 

The festival takes place in an oaken tree, so it can be

Cherished in the appearance of the autumn leaves

For lo and behold, as I see them fall

They pull me past the imposing wall

Into these strange festivities

The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since September 28th, 2007.