The trees have been so whipped by gods
They show their tears in drifts of coins
Paying their obeisance to the soil
In flashing polka dots strewn like confetti
Upon the veils of still-green juices
I am affronted by the wind’s tearing
The way it skews the season
I want to hold my hands upon the moon’s curves
Peer into its surfaces, hold back falling
Shove my staff into the yellow shoals

Summer’s elusive kisses still pressing
Upon September’s cooling  brow.



Veronica Aldous 2016 All Rights reserved


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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3 Responses to Danaë

  1. intrudesite says:

    Beautiful .
    Wanting to hold the curves of the moon……original metaphor…

    Liked by 1 person

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