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| Friday, November 24, 2006
Autumn's Mercy Writer : Dawn FungForty steps before an audible crunch I noticed the black and yellow stripes - previously strong hues, of a dead bumblebee discoloured three weeks in the cold. It had been buried and warmed by the weight of falling leaves, saturated until the last gale blew, cajoled and pried open the narrow glade humbled for the coming frost. Its withering frame had been left unscarred by rains - protected by wet, brown veins of soft surfaces sliding upon each other in nature's accreted camouflage. Wings unbroken, it now snuggles beneath the forest blanket, tucked between the ears of a frozen blade. The rested guest quietly sleeps in the comfort of autumn's mercy. I know full well this pardon : that it will never wake to darkened sounds, nor shiver through the bleak passageways, nor stutter words that echo wildly under the oblique sun, nor fear the lonesome shape of the beast that trod it on the wintry floor when January's unforgiving hours come. Autumn's Mercy is copyright of dawnfung.com.
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