Niki Bippen

"An Autumn Memorial"

I see you there in your funeral garb,
A procession of crisp colors.
The fleeting sound of birds
Migrating are your final farewells
And bitter notes of solemn song.

The wind carries the balm of
Sunset and decay, partners to
The perfumed flesh of your
Solstice.
The sun drops her head in the west
Beneath a veil of bloodied colors.
With one last stretch of clouds, she
Waves goodbye to the warm and living

Season.