November
The wind moves the brittle leaves,
scuttling across the wooden porch.
The wind rattles dry spent corn stalks,
bending in a wave across the field.
The wind makes sparks fly and crackle
as they curl upwards in the bonfire.
The wind makes the logs hiss
as they burn steadily in the stone fireplace.
The wind defines and sharpens autumn,
to bring not only smells but sounds of a season.
The wind now carries an emptiness of sound
which mournful echo carries to the first snow.
Jennie
1 comment:
Very nice! :)
JoAnn
Post a Comment