pastoral evening reds

 I felt a cool frozen morning metal that sticks to every touch

 chain link fence bold boundaries burning heat within a crutch

 holding up the balance of wounds that lean on devisive time

 new addition that slips from the hold in male oaks of reddish gold

 within this color I stared deep into a cataclismic coil of autumn light

 searching through a pack of wolves to find the yellow missing shine

 it swirled within a water drum sound like healing stones around

 a thousand perfect circles sending locust war selling fierce torment

 yet a forest such as this opens other cavelike nicer ancient doors

 some sending you above and below the thunderclasp of gain

 even songs would pile wood on a campfire meadows like loyalty

 expectations could only ruin the thought of our next opal surprise

 as it was then the many colored eyes opened a salty tear pace

 counting the years we wait for patient enduring of a distance race

 praise this trail along timpanogos dreaming streamside pools

 where the birds congregate to sing songs of old wooden spools

 turning waterfalls like the season on edges of foaming golden rules

 seven trumpets sound truth within lands of pastoral evening reds 

 overcast mountain skies held secrets of the tree born spring souls

 new holes appeared within my hiking boots for miles and such

 where I felt a cool morning metal that sticks to every touch