Poems come like September
bees drowsy with chill and chimney smoke,
hickory or apple wood, curling
blue and ghostly, forbidding October
frost. Whirring near my ear
I turn to see nothing, evanesced
as dandelion seed against blue sky,
seeking every last drop of nectar
against the flowerless winter.
2 comments:
I quite like this one. The sound conveys the mood and the feel of the poem quite brilliantly. I am sure I left a comment on this one before, you know before the big wipe :P but I thought I'd let you know that I come back to this poem every so often to listen to the sound of autumn and the September Bees. Cheers.
Thanks, Tiger. Honestly, I think this one is one of my favorites too. I agree that it's a good read as the fall comes on. Happy October everyone! Tis one of my favorite months. :D
Post a Comment