Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Autumn and All
Across the river from the nuthouse
under the gush of grey
sodden sky flirting with the
sun—a fickle breeze tumbles
autumnal leaves through the last gasp
of meadows, golden and rusted
brambles and milkweed
the glimmering of winter berries.
All along the river the reddish
leathery, stubborn, snaking
stuff of vines and other creepers
once verdant, persistent leaves sprawling
over hapless earth.
Yesterday the grass, now
the lace of frost traces maple veins.
Tomorrow the stark solemnity
of leave-taking—Then, the end
creeps upon them: surprised, they
burrow into deepening frost.
I have been reading a lot of William Carlos Williams of late. Here, a take on SPRING AND ALL, one of my favorite poems.
To see more of my poetic glimerings as we traverse National Poetry Month, detour to BLUETRUEDREAM, my blog of daily musings. Peace...