The Chill of Flame

It is golden both on trees and grounds around them.
The flame of last life burns through autumn’s chill
one late day to extinguish itself.

We cannot feed it or sustain it.
Acceptance must follow
in the frozen remnants
of the dying year.

We would love the memories
if only they could warm us.
Winter and its frostings follow
securing the Springtime ahead.

About the Author: Christine Emmert is a writer, actress, director and educator. Her poetry has been published in journals and anthologies for several years. Her plays have been performed through out the English speaking world. She currently has LILITH, a novella, and ISMENE, a novel, out on Amazon Kindle. She lives with her husband, Richard, just outside Philadelphia. Her blog can be accessed at