It is frost that sets the
fires of autumn,
turning leaves to
yellow, red, and orange flames.
The wind carries their burnt colors
as farewell notes across the grass.
Grand oaks peer into blue sky
watching geese wing their way
to warmer weather while
they tuck their limbs
and wait for sleep.
Fall always sparks childhood memories. Our little home in
the country was surrounded by trees,
and in autumn the woods turned brilliant colors. I would
spend hours outdoors taking in
the sights and sounds. When the leaves finally let go of
their hold on branches, I imagined it
as crumpling raindrops.
©Susie Clevenger 2012
Real Toads ~ Transforming Fridays
Comments
as farewell notes across the grass
Very well described, Susie! One can imagine a movement slowly from one season to the other right in front of our eyes! Nicely!
Hank
And your prose at the end added a personal note which filled out the poem -- enriched it.
i love all the colors of fall though....
Your imagery is so alive in this. Doesn't autumn have its own distinctive smell too? Even though it's dying, the earth/dirt/mud smells so alive.
Beautiful write Susie.
Lovely writing...thank you for taking on Real Toads Transforming Friday!!
Happy Weekend, G
'...watching geese wing their way to warmer weather while... '
as farewell notes across the grass."
Ominous! And then I see that after the living trees watch the performance of autumn, "they tuck their limbs and wait for sleep." And I sigh with joy and relief. And your commentary actually reads as another verse in this powerfully huge (disguised as tiny) poem.