12-27 Autumn Throws A Tantrum

I wouldn't follow me,
down this rabbit hole...

the woods I leave behind,
grow a hollow,
in my other heart,
I wouldn't follow,
me,
would you?

I've hung red ribbons,
on their branches,
lazy blowing, skeletons,
dry to swallow,
in the wind,
but I wouldn't,
if I were you, follow,
and hang, screaming,
in the hollow,
red ribbons flickering on the wind.

but if you do, follow,
be careful the amber sunset,
lanterns floating face up in my wake,
dark and shadowed laughter,
careful the gallow,
I create,
if I were you, though,
I would not,
follow,
and float these dreams awake,
to laugh in the darkening hollow,
shadows I create.

I wouldn't,
follow,

me,
but would you?