Bitter Love

down from the branches fall the leaves,
a wanness comes on all the trees,
the summers done;
and into his last house in heaven,
now goes the sun.

sharp frost destroys the tender sprays,
birds are cold in these short days,
the Nightengale
is grieving that the fire of heaven
is now grown pale.

the swollen river rushes on
past meadows whence the green has gone,
the golden sun
has filled our world.snow falls by day
the nights are numb.

about me all the world is stark,
and i am burning; in my heart

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poem by Brian Saling
Added by Poetry Lover
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