First Bloom
Mums burst, scarlet flame
Withering to fine, brown ash.
Gilded moon shines, soft
Before the Light Fades
Sky gleams, blue and bright,
While gold leaves drift and flutter
In the barest breeze
That tickles lush, green meadow,
Fingers soft as a cat’s tail
Fragile Morning
Fog floats, tissue-thin,
Drifting like a bridal veil —
Leaves fall, glossy gold.
Death of a Maple Tree
Red leaves crackle, flare
And fall to cool, wet earth
Where they lie sodden,
Seeping into slick, brown muck —
Flame that does not hiss, but fades.
Lorna McGinnis graduated from the University of Puget Sound with a bachelor of arts in English. She’s been featured in such literary outlets as Feminine Collective and Word Gathering, and she blogs on WordPress. In her spare time, she reads anything she can get her hands on and practices martial arts. She lives in Olympia, Washington.
