September

So it is September now,
an inexorable creep to,
to sweep away the leaves
that shall, unequivocably
fall from brooding trees.

The lingering kiss of June
has passed and I draw,
wrap scarves around,
bind myself to a reality
that seems to sigh

So I die from September
watch the burnt grass,
the brow beaten rose
and anguish grows
sears me to the bone.

I bite into an apple
that took all summer,
then fell, ripened



Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 435 times
Written on 2010-11-18 at 07:41

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countryfog
Like you I find September to be a sad transition, the tipping point between all the wealth of summer, all that is lost in fall, prelude to the barreness of winter. Your last stanza is simply stunning.
2010-11-18


NicholasG
This is the bleak, repetitive nature of a world with a skewed axis, the only plus side being no mosquitoes....for a while anyway.
You've caught the essence of autumn weell.
Nick
2010-11-18


John Ashleigh The PoetBay support member heart!
The imagery in this poem is outstanding - it captures like a photoghraph and it's many colours. The summer bite still lingers, yet the suttleness of autumn prevails.

A very lovely poem.
2010-11-18