Fall

south-field

I watch the rain fall,

a forest of steel shafts,

spear-straight and deathly cold,

to lie in trembling droplets

in a petal’s curved embrace.

 

Beneath cold autumn rain,

the last of the roses, swaying gently,

let scented petals fall,

drifts of sweetness

where the blackbirds fuss.

 

In this butter yellow light,

silent fall the golden leaves

against a sky blue as summer,

robins’ eggs and forget-me-nots.

Remember this when frost furs

in frigid white

our winter world.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

17 thoughts on “Fall”

      1. Surely it doesn’t matter a fig the consciousness its more the contents of the heart, the soul and the sub conscious that produce works of merit or genius. This is one

      2. No need for words …. I think I have told you before, I only EVER say what I mean – it’s a rule. Consider yourself boosted and of entirely normal head size!!!!

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