Autumn waltzes through cornfields, harvesting
song like devout farmers who chant to weak crops
"hold on, be strong just a little while longer, dear."
Shoes walk then skip into sun's thundering rays, clouds
blushing their last crimson, love a prideful color that must
fade with the dawn of a new season.
Winter will soon seclude us, forcing our hearts to withdraw
from ornamental sugar maples and glorious canvases. Our
eyes will twitch, teeth chatter, hands tremble, and we will
embrace the perishing fire,
praying that we can resurrect
hope once more.
-
Written 11/07/14
Workshop #2 for my poetry class.
