November Dreams

Something dark and beautiful glides our way----

Is it day or night--or are we in the time of day where dreams lie in wait?

Late in November when autumn has mostly fallen and winter's cold touch is seen as mists on the air, does she arise. Delicate steps through the dried tall grass, her chill flesh exposed. Almost courtly in this cruel season, she adorns herself in the crimson drops of berries and feathers from departing wings.

Powerful, primal, woman. Like the wise women of old, there's so many songs to be heard by just watching her silent passing.