I left you in an era of woodfires, <br />Red leaves burning like sunset on tin roofs. <br />No rain swept reason for such loss compares, <br />To what cannot be earthbound by a word. <br /> <br />Though winter falls like crystal past the pane, <br />I feel your shadow thumbprints on my lids. <br />West is the echo of the imagery <br />Compelling light on fields of goldenrod. <br /> <br />Previously published, 'Poetry Depth Quarterly'<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/compelling-light/
