Killing Frost Poem by Sandra Fowler

Killing Frost

Rating: 5.0


I think the leaves down on my roof of tin.
I feel the failing brightness on my skin.
Autumn insects sing the shadows thin.

You came to me out of a killing frost,
How many wildflowers did your journey cost?
Your eyes are cold, gold with the sun you lost.

My fingers write the seasons on your face.
Leaves whisper songs no morning could replace.
The music plays inside as we embrace.

Glass mirrors a gray bowl of simplicity,
Your telling of the fog is poetry,
Words fill the emptiness with you and me.

Color is raining somewhere far away,
I close my heart to what the sad leaves say.
Good-bye would be too real for me today.

Would you catch me a color for belief?
The poem must be ours however brief.
We might not know the song of next year's leaf.

Previously published, Appalachian Heritage, Berea College

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
John Tiong Chunghoo 02 January 2007

dear sandra i love this poem very much. you are so romantic. it is highly original. every verse calls to heart. keep posting please.

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Mary Naylor 06 December 2006

What an exquisite job you did of integrating autumn and human experience in this beautiful love poem. I loved the rich use of so many of the senses, rather than mostly the visual. It's difficult to make heavy use of rhyme without having it clamour. Your rhyme did not clamor. It rose in a harmonious cloud of music. Warmest Best Wishes, Mary

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Jolanta Gradowicz 31 May 2006

I admire your abilities, Sandra. It is very difficult to write a rhyming poem and at the same time to keep a proper mood. You were succeeded. Congratulations!

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Ian Bowen 28 May 2006

Sandra, I love the way you captured atmosphere in your excellent poem. Regards, Ian

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Duncan Wyllie 27 May 2006

So true how as the seasons we change in time, a beautiful piece Love Duncan X

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Tsira Goge 24 October 2008

Hello, Sandra, Only similar optimism it is possible will make murder of a sincere frost.... 10.... Best wishes, Tsira

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Alison Cassidy 20 April 2008

You mix your ingredients (color, sound and texture) with the finesse of a cordon bleu chef. You stir them with a compassionate spoon, bake them for just the right amount of time, then present them with an artist's eye. Your poetry traces similar themes, and yet each poem is startlingly unique - like this one. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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Melvina Germain 09 February 2008

Sandra, your word usage is absolutely intoxicating. This is a remarkable poem, with a very striking title, 'Killing Fost'. I truly enjoyed the read and looking forward to more and more. Melvina

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Bill Grace 14 October 2007

Sandra, Your work always expands for me the borders of my very limited understanding of so many things, most especially the power - the incredible power - of love. Bill Grace

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Jim Foulk 16 April 2007

yes it is that old frost is what does it. fall is beautiful with all those colors, then comes frost and kills it. a very well put together piece of wonderful poetry.

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Sandra Fowler

Sandra Fowler

W. Columbia, WV, USA
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