Even though I’m not trained in writing poetry, there have been times in my life when that’s all I wanted to write. The intense poetry writing times have usually occurred during periods of upheaval--when writing time was scarce and when I needed the distillation of simple truth from chaos that poetry provides.
The little poem below, unschooled, I’m sorry, came from one of those periods of upheaval a few years ago. I always think of it this time of year when summer is poised on the edge of fall, when change is coming and thoughts turn to meeting it.
Crossing into Fall
Hold my hand
And let’s cross into fall.
One step past the line’s
Not too different at all.
This still land
Where seasons twine
And stall,
Summer and fall
Isn’t orange or green,
But clear blue haze
Warmth on closed eyes—
Hold my hand
In this still land.
I'm not much of a poet myself, or maybe I could be called a "Cheesy Poet" but I loved your poem. It made me feel a quiet calm peace. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteI keep reading your poem over and over...I really like it. I get something else out of it every time! I kind of feel that is applies to the stage of life I am in right now. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThere is something magical about the changing of the seasons. There's that special moment when you realize wow, it's fall now. It's not a date, just a feeling when you stop look around and know change is in the air. Good poem.
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