Autumn’s Orphans
It’s just half past October, and even the sunrise is headed south.
Another bright summer is over. The slate grey days are here.
The geese scrawl their cuneiform messages across the sky.
“This way out,” > they say. “This way.” > “This way.” >
Our snowbird friends have flown, and we stand,
yearning after them, and wishing for wings.
The days narrow down to year’s end.
The cold nestles into our souls.
The crystal air has an edge,
and winter is into us
with her first
sharp
tooth.
Mmmmmm..... :)
ReplyDeleteThe sound of geese flying overhead is my favorite sound in the whole world!
Thanks for the congratulatory note on my blog. I'm definitely wroking on getting all the sleep I can. *grin*
Ouch! I knew I felt a nip in the air.
ReplyDeleteI loved this poem, especially the "this way >". I've always thought they were trying to show us stubborn people to go where it's warmer.
ReplyDelete'the geese scrawl their cuniform message'... excellent--simply excellent! (Huzzah for simple celebrations of seasons...I forget sometimes that the sun changes his perspective on the world...)
ReplyDeleteRoxi, that's a gorgeous poem. You are so, so, very talented. xx
ReplyDelete