My grandmothers poem:
Cornfields rustic, pale and crisp, a drawing card
For crows wheeling against blue
Landed as bits of midnight, they strut
Their iridescent blackness
Wind snatches color from ground and trees
Twirling leaves across the roadway
Undulating willows, in gold hula skirts
Dance to the rivers song
Coppery pumpkins resting like fat enuchs
Amid the clutter
While sun gilded squirrels become ornaments
On fence and limb
Such unique beauty for eye, ear and soul
And yet so fleeting!
October’s fiery blaze fades too soon, extinguished
By winters silent white.
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October’s glory
For all members who enjoy writing poetry or who use poetry to express their strongest emotions.
Please be advised this area can be triggering, so read cautiously.
Please be advised this area can be triggering, so read cautiously.
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