Autumn Ferns
Thomas Anthony Morgan
Quiet moonlight
Luminescent glass
Shattered on pebbles
Where the water carved its path
You old silent stranger,
pacing miles of Earth
I sure wish I’d known you
before that bridge was burned
Liquid prisms,
these mountain springs still pour
Driftwood, listless
floats toward unknown shores
You old silent stranger,
eyes like autumn ferns,
flaming out and falling
Where that bridge was burned
You’ll fade into Cezanne,
dream and forest blurred
I will stay ‘til sunrise,
leaving that bridge burnt