…of lost souls

The leaves are drifting
falling soundless to the earth
touched by the early frost
reflecting both the light
and the endless darkness
colours swim until the daylight wanes
once more into twilight
shadows echo velvet
draped in splendid silver tracery
the falling night, the only sound
masking the ground with its veils
but a melody still echoes
of memories made, and yet to be
somewhere the night dreams
and quietly gathers its secrets
catching the sighs of lost souls
from shooting stars
© Ann Bagnall
2013