poetryvlog.com-There is a Field

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There is a Field
by Annabelle Moseley

                        There is a field with trees of crimson rust,

                        And I have wandered there to glimpse the sky,

                        At evening when the daylight turns to dust.

                        October nights give birth to autumn's cry.

                        The sight of harvest shows me who you are;

                        But autumn is the color of my soul

                        That wakes a memory of moving far

                        From freedom when I played your lover's role.

                        Conversion dances; but prepare to yield,

                        For danger lies in unexpected flight.

                        My melody sings in this autumn field

                        Where leaves fall in the fading of the light.

                        My heart is now my own; my heart is wild.

                        Autumn of myself, I am your child.

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