Bleeding Hurts

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,   
of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
~ William Cullen Bryant

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I saw a heart
carved in bone,
split in two pieces,
bleeding hurts…

Under bare limbs,
autumn weaves
a fiery blanket of death,
waiting to rot
back to life.

“Do you hear me, man?” the Wind howls. “You’ve turned the Seasons into a ruthless bitch. And through the bark, Nature is weeping her heart out.”

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– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and Hedgewitch’s Friday 55.

Silenced Fires

I’m with her from moonrise to sunset, from lost to not yet found—listening, plotting, feeling every word and world that darkens the ink in her veins. When July reaches its lustiest, when leaves are green and birds gaudy, when she craves the cooling touch of water and dirt, I fill her head and hips with burning tales, and I wait… for her fingers to spell my wilds real. We sing much out of the heat, before the chill chants of change.

Autumn dressed
the lake reddish gold,
silenced fires.
In her heart, summer-
crafted stories fade.

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– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

When the Veil Is Autumn-Thinned

“No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away…” ~ Terry Pratchett. If you read me often, you might be tired of this quote. What can I say? I love it, believe it. So, you’ll probably see it again.

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New York City’s soil is October cool under my feet. But the soul of your laughter and memories (of you and me dancing Caribbean wilds into the world) keeps the chill out of my toes. One oak drops crimsoned leaves next to sculptures music and I art-stepped into the dirt. “Graveyards are dead and dark,” you said to me once, “as hollow as forgotten bones and ashes are cold.” Perhaps, you didn’t say it like that, but your heart (as afraid of the dark as the rest of you was) might’ve had. I heard you, blood of mine. I hear you.

I don’t dance alone
when the Veil is autumn-thinned.
You sing in my bones,
where I keep you warm and bright,
alive through laughter and dance.

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the wee notes…
– This is my last entry for October’s Heart-Bits with Magaly, 2017: Love Is Love Is Love… and Words. My 1st contribution was all about word-lust. This one is about my love for dance and memories of loved ones, and how the two can keep each other alive.
– Did you enter my Stitched October’s Heart-Bits Giveaway? If not, then you should.
– I’m also linking to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

see the complete handwritten piece on Facebook

“Love Is Love Is Love… and Words”, by Shelle Kennedy