.
She thought it was
the autumn sun
shining on the dogwood tree
but no
the leaves themselves
were flushed
defying the gray
with red-gold embers
self-lit in the gloom.
It was the spark
within the dead,
the nuances of yesterday,
the fire of life
banked against all odds.
.
.
(c) 2010, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(re-post, revised)
.
Seasonings 