autumn morning
how can ordinary words
describe the sunlit undersides of geese
or how the swamp maple
in the first blush of dawn
thrusts an implausible pink trunk
into the sky?
exactly which upper
and lower case letters will allow you to
feel the bite of the first frost
on your carelessly bare feet
skipping through the wet fire
to the sound of syncopated honks?
hours from now
unless these observations are
fixed on the open sky of the page
who will understand how your
shadowed footprints melted
into the dying grass
or how the great birds were swallowed
by the rising light?
6 comments:
Ah but Pauline.. yours are never ordinary words and so you describe it all so well. Always.
A ever changing season of color. I am missing it, the colors left as fast as they came.
Beautifully written and you capture the surprise we all have at our first glimpse of precious autumn.
Hilary stole my words - your words are never ordinary. They paint beautiful images in our minds so we can see what you see. Thank you!
Oh my, how beautiful. Just lovely. I love this poem in the way that I love Mary Oliver.
Thank you Hilary. Those be kind words :)
OOTP - we had a long, lovely fall. Sorry yours was so brief!
Tabor - you town autumn posts have been lovely.
Thank you, Barbara, for your kind words!
Oh my, Kerry! Mary Oliver is such a magnificent poet. You honor me with that comment!
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