April showers

'April showers'


Digits soar, the frigid winds
having long rescinded their conquest northward now retreat,
having hailed a new king.
To chants of "Heat rises!", he ascends his throne in the presence of ten witnesses.
Those selfsame ones who prophetically play Janus.

"His new, ancient wings
will submit even him unto Daedalus' demise!", so they say.
His glory, having painted our leaves green
Now bears the inevitable consequence of their revolt.

Behold their rebellion, their whispering schemes,
Their rustling marshal
Their creaking, guttural war cries.
No sooner did they all set off-
this defiant alliance, eager with bloodlust,
than was his face hidden from them.
Veiled in cotton.

Time stands still, their hours his now.
The watch seems broken.
Their sour plans for siege failed to consider how deep they go
-our roots in this earth.

Immobilised by the lies of their pride,
The months drain the envy from their eyes.
Now only hate colours their red leaves,
And the distance to the floor is fatal.




Red leaf, covered in mud.
Raw grief creases the sky's brow
Dead leaf, covered in blood-
now it descends in a flood.

Mortality's dark flames
doused in heaven's river,
Autumn rains,
April showers.