By: Candy Brown~

present horizons

I want to slip between
tawny textures
of sun ripened harvest,
a silent vagabond
listening to the past.

Where stoop-necked oxen
clamored o’re the field,
as the sower and the sickle
labored amidst Autumn’s
waning shadows.

I want to grasp enshrined relics,
where past and present merge
in grains of conscience
neath vanishing citadels
and antiquated things.

Embracing the golden threads
of fall
as they once were,
within the abundance
of present