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end of season

I am an Autumn virtue,

a quietly falling leaf

softly gliding,

like the flight of ravens

stopping to rest in towering trees,

always too cautious.

 

I am an Autumn reverie,

swirling whirlwinding seeds,

falling acorns,

pumpkins rotting in the field

where vines ran wild

in summer.

 

I am Autumn chaos,

silent and sullen

hard freezes,

brittle frost crystals

destroying fragile petals

anticipating drifts of snow.

 

6295677548 017e29685c m end of season

3 Comments (Add Yours)

  1. Nice poem, until the last word. Perfect without it. Lets the reader decide what you (them) are waiting for… I'm acting like I'm in your writers group! The group I was in on the Peninsula were brutal with our writing, loving the rest of the time.

  2. m ~ this is stunningly beautiful, one of my favorites. I love the way you begin each stanza.

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