The wind wraps
White shadow
Around the rough,
Rocky marrow
Of a chimney
Perched beside
A birch branch.
It's stony jaw
Hangs agape,
Preparing for
The pine-smoke
Of November.
Autumn is immanent-
I see it in the way
She twirls
Her dimming
Emerald dress.
That last hour
Of beauty spent-
In glimmering finesse.
The breath of God
Is my inspiration
I sing often,
-For he sighs frequently.
At time’s I believe
He is asthmatic
I am rattled rougher
In the breeze of Autumn-
But my silver song,
Is all the more louder,
And all the more piercing,
In storms.
I love what you've done with this poem. Connecting the wind chime with the season, showing a relation between the two. And painting a beautiful picture of the fall in all her glory. Once I had some w. chimes and enjoyed them till the wind blew them down. Your poem makes me hear them again. PS: At least God can empathize with the asthmatic. Love it. Thanks. 10
I am rattled rougher In the breeze of Autumn- But my silver song, Is all the more louder, And all the more piercing, In storms. ------- metaphorical composition of the seasons.........I loved it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Every time I read something you have written, it becomes better and better..(smile) Time spent reading you is time well spent.