(Villanelle)

Summer lost its hold on heaven, broke
its crystal arc that spanned the turquoise seas.
The days turned pale and only echoes spoke

as autumn flung its strident-threaded cloak
of red and gold, rejecting summer's pleas.
And summer lost, its hold on heaven broke.

Then winter shrieked and raised its sword; a stroke
of chilling force brought autumn to its knees.
The days turned pale; their lonely echoes spoke

of pending night, when darkness would provoke
a flow of pain that tears could not appease --
when summer lost its hold, and heaven broke.

But dark deceived, for one small truth awoke
and said, "There's light within; you have the keys."
Through days turned pale, this lonely echo spoke.

And some believed, determined to evoke
a spark of faith their anxious hearts could seize.
But some are lost; their hold on heaven broke
when days turned pale and only echoes spoke.

- Laryalee Fraser

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