you can turn red hot, an angry wildfire
on this autumn season
but the cool nights have prevailed
casting a soft brushed-golden light
on your skin
on your cheeks
browning
mellowing
slowing down
your pulse rate simmers to lethargic
wait
you bow to nature
autumn: burning bush
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille hosted by Lisa Fox. This is a 44 word post with the selected word, brush. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thanks for your visit and comments.
