Evening - early autumn

A yellow pyre
farewells the sun
as it drops
leaf-like
out of sight;
stencil trees'
sap fails to rise;
the Moon, remote
as dead men's eyes,
ascends
where desiccated paddocks
feel the frost's first bite.


Рецензии
I like your poetry dear Jena!
What a pity I don't have a memory to remember the poem straight away after first reading
BR,

Марианна Шихарбеева   13.05.2006 11:58     Заявить о нарушении
Thank you. I think it is the impressions the poem leaves that are important. The words are just a vehicle, albeit a vital one.

Jena Woodhouse   18.05.2006 03:43   Заявить о нарушении