…and the pendulum swings

Everywhere around is silence
and the leaves begin to fall
the fires die with the wind
the first red lantern tries the night

winters’ kiss lands softly
as if floating upon ghostly clouds
time passes
soon shall the frost
cover the fallen leaves

silent, unmoved, entombed
nocturnal shades
shadows deep and cold
days too short, nights too long

a withered tree
amongst the frozen rocks
beckons in vain
for some touch, a sign of life

chilling ice-cold beauty
of hushed and lonely tones
flows icy through my veins
and a voice in the wind sighs
sings its melody to the night

one perfect moment
crying silver
in the pale moonlight
watching
the tree stands still
and the pendulum swings
© Ann Bagnall
2014