Black and White Autumn

	by George Right

That's a black and white autumn over crystal-cold lake,
Mortal dance of black leaves in insensible air.
Wipe a drop off your cheek. We will someday awake
At an hour of blue moon, in the middle of nowhere.

Void and pale is the sky, interwoven by haze,
And the mourning dark sun falls aslope to the ground.
On the brink of a lake in a motionless daze
You are standing alone. Nobody around.

In a long gauzy dress, apathetic to cold,
While the whispering wind slowly ruffles your hair.
And the things that it whispers can only be told
At an hour of blue moon, in the middle of nowhere.

That's a fading of dreams in a colourless light,
Thin long fingers hold a bloomless stalk of a flower.
No hate - only iciness of incoming night,
No flame - only ashes in the ruins of a tower.

Stop recalling the shadows, the summer is gone,
Just a cold water mirror reflects your despair.
We will gather together, remaining alone,
At an hour of blue moon, in the middle of nowhere.

2008


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