untitled
by Kitty Boots
desperate men carry the light on their shoulders
mixing with sweat, it drips honey-gold
evaporating on still-green fields criss-crossing
narrow, dusty roads
corn gives up, soybeans turn brittle and yellow
morning glories, color enhanced by cooler weather
still twine, blooms of pink and blue linger, unrelenting
until the frost withers them to the ground
fallen leaves, broken limbs from wounded trees
the summer's burn pile is adorned with a circle of
golden rod, white asters with tiny gold centers
soon to be threatened with flames
pecans encased in leathery armor fall
squirrels dig and bury in hopeful pits
harvest home, but I long to fly with the geese
and touch the purple bruises of the fading day
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Author's Note
Fall, a few observations and feelings
Other stories by Kitty Boots
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Autumn is many things. I love the melancholy. I long to fly too.*
Lovely.
*
"white asters with tiny gold centers
soon to be threatened with flames"
Beautiful work.
Thank you, Gary
Thank you, FM Le
Thank you, Darryl
"fallen leaves, broken limbs" Love the details.
Excellent imagery, Kitty. *
Reminds me of a fall drive through the back country.
“broken limbs from wounded trees.”
All good stuff.
*
Everything - all the elements of nature moving to the rhythm of the planet. But, as the opening image points the reader - "desperate men carry the light on their shoulders" There's a changing. My favorite line/imager here: "harvest home, but I long to fly with the geese" Wonderful. In my read of the poem, the day is forever fading, as in a loop. Moving there, but never arriving. I like this poem. *
This is lovely *