Wednesday, November 2

A Poem for Thursday.


Did they say the season is winter?

Low sun
shining
through thinning trees
lighting up flies
with gold
hovering high
then dropping low
in autumn columns.

Apple green grasses
tastefully arrayed
 fallen leaves
streaked by low sun
shining
in yellow strips.

Over all
eleven tall silver trees
birch-hugging
in a family group
unbreathing
as if waiting
for the season to begin.

5 comments:

  1. sounds lovely, havn't been for a stroll up the garden for a while to the family trees =) xxx

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  2. I like this Gerry. Yes, there is a sense that nothing is breathing, that there is a gap in the seasons as we wait for the next episode.

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  3. Bravo Gerry, this is fantastic!

    thanks and happy evening,
    elena

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  4. Wonderful image of the trees, and I really like the poem. Top rate post!

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  5. thankyou one and all for your kind comments. I tried to link this one to a poetry blog...and failed miserably!!

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