Change Poem by Stan Petrovich

Change



my hair goes from green
to red and yellow
bristling
my fingernails lose their summer sheen
become dull to scrape the cooling
waters
and then again
everything happens in october
i am not man
i am not tree
mineral i am not
i am the ethereal haze
growing sundry around
the straight down sun

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Stefanie Fontker 16 September 2011

Autumn is a beautiful, but depressing season. It is really something, to watch the world die. Great poetry, as always, I expect no less.

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