Sutures of Leather and Gold

Songs are heard from
a distant sun  
Vibrant, her red mane flows
then drapes over mountaintops
with colors that scorch the sky  
in streaks that would persuade  
psychosis  
 
Skeletal trees a long forgotten
waste whose frames can
be seen through fog
their faces  prostrate buried
in the sand rib cages peeled
back allowing whispers
to break free
 
Black sheen of a raven  colors contrast the heavens drops
seeds that spiral down onto ripened cherries that smolder before turning to oil of desperation oozing from
the beaks of countless birds
that land to preen their iwings
Downy fluff falls as snowflakes  
to rest on the lashes of a lithe pallid moon  
 
Destiny hovers broken, torn  
by human lies  crumbling  
within a worldly cocoon.
Her cloak mended with leather and emeralds by the grace
and skill of three hundred three wings of butterflies that create sutures  of gold hanging
on the  boughs
of sacraficial evergreens.
 
Mother rests