falling asleep beneath a burning blanket of leaves;
she is haunted by the cruel autumn wind,
the promise of a deeper darkness.
the only sound that of the bare branches above,
speaking in runes of clattering bone.
the secret words frighten her.
there are feathers clenched in her hands, she cannot fathom why.
there are tears running down her face, but yet she smiles in her sleep.
all the while, dreaming of ash and silence, and cold november embers.