Autumn equinox.
The hills are nearly silent—
A hermit-thrush calls.
The wood shed is almost full, and neatly stacked logs wait to be split. The last few flowers stand defiant, and the vegetable garden has been picked clean. There is little left to do now, but wait for winter.
Nearby mountain tops
measure winter's progress—
summer's losing ground.
The summer people are long gone, and the road sits quietly, except for my passing. Trips to town will be less frequent. Visitors will be few and far between, and I'll ask myself many times why I stay.
Growing more restless
the geese circle one last time—
taunting as they flee.
© C.D Sinex
Lovely poem, flowing rhyme and soothing gentle rhythm, feelings of peace come from within your lines. Beautiful imagery, love this poem! Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful depiction of autumn equinox, its effects on vegetation and man, is aptly captured in the poem. Beautiful piece of poetry, well articulated and elegantly brought forth in good diction with conviction. A lovely poem indeed. Thanks for sharing Sinex.