…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
singing 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