© Mama Zen
This October melancholy
Last year’s ghostly negative,
Lives in loss and love’s dross;
Days are tentative;
Each night is pale and out-bled:
Remember the dead.
Change blew colder at harvest-time,
Your love waned, emotion thinned.
Breath of wind
Scatters leaves, misperceives
How hearts may rescind
Like thistle seeds blown away
Before All Saint’s Day.
The Sunday Mini-Challenge on Real Toads focuses on a 7-line stanza form devised by Paul Laurence. Dunbar.