Thursday, September 22, 2011

Odour of Winter





Mouldy leaves rips the breeze,
as I submit my salute to Autumn.
I hear burnished veins curl,
they wrinkle the roadside,
crunching together
rankled.

Nights nip,
snap at wrists and ankles,
prickling pallid flesh.

I cradle the pale sun
staving off
murky days
of Winter.

2 comments:

  1. ouch a powerfully raw take on Autumn, poignant how you end with cradling the sun as you would a child to nuture it and give it life to fight the dreaded winter

    Hugs

    Rachel xx

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  2. Hi Rach,
    I am not sure where it came from but as it started to come to mind, I wrote it down and it just flowed without prompting. I spent the day on three poems today, strange when you get a flood of them. I am not finished the other two, will sleep on them and see how they are tomorrow with a fresh mind. Xx

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