And stop over at The Poem Farm where Amy is hosting the round up today.
Edge
of September
by
Jeanie Tomasko
by
Jeanie Tomasko
Again this year it comes:
the shift in the wind
that certain slant of sun
the sudden red of sumac.
Out at the lake
birdsong is less urgent,
the young can feed themselves.
In a few days
something like light
will tug on wings.
I am at home with
the downside of summer.
I take stock of the woodpile.
Night comes earlier. The space
between cricket chirps, longer.
the shift in the wind
that certain slant of sun
the sudden red of sumac.
Out at the lake
birdsong is less urgent,
the young can feed themselves.
In a few days
something like light
will tug on wings.
I am at home with
the downside of summer.
I take stock of the woodpile.
Night comes earlier. The space
between cricket chirps, longer.
Read the rest here.
Posts
This poem is home for me: sumac, birdsong, woodpile, crickets, grayness. Home. Happy Poetry Friday, Dori. A.
ReplyDeleteI've been reading quite a number of red and golden poems for autumn - so beautiful to have four seasons. We only have sun and rain here in Singapore - and yes, the eternal summer. :) Thank you so much for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteI loved one this week, too, when it showed up in my email inbox. Fun to see it again with the photo you picked!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you enjoyed this, Amy. I'm wondering where home is geographically for you. Happy Poetry Friday to you, too.
ReplyDeleteMyra, I've just been reading a book called Wishing Trees where the main characters travel through several Asian countries. The landscape sounds so beautiful. I've only seen pictures, and would love to visit. Ah, but I do love the seasons changing here. Thanks for stopping by.
It is fun to connect over a poem, isn't it, Mary Lee?
Blogger is driving me crazy!
ReplyDeleteAnyway, loved this poem, too, especially the woodpile. (Love Your Daily Poem!)
Thanks, Dori!