Today, I thought I would share a poem I had published many years ago in Beginnings Magazine.
Slipped through my fingers,
brown without rainbow dye,
they are brittle and become dust in hand.
An empty peach hourglass.
The chill was sharper than
an ax on a grinding wheel.
Sunlight seeped through cracks,
set these dead leaves afire.
Dark green canopies shelter my way-
deeper behind the farmhouse.
Sunlight sparkles on wrinkled foil,
Caesar’s victory crown, still
The blustery wind blows,
dries their skin,
stings my lungs.
They sway clumsily in the draft,
so weighted, they fall.
Ballerinas in Swan Lake
skate across glazed ice
lighter than parchment, but
heavier than air.
Rest upon the ground
bruised from impact and careless trampling
Swiss cheese foil
bronzed and useless for wrapping.
I’ve walked down this wooded way
lined with pine guards armed with sharp needles.
Carelessly treading on crisp rice
echoing pain in the shade.
What do you think? Have you shared a poem with your readers today?