Mortality Poem by Sandra Fowler
Mortality
My friend, I think the sunset knows our names.
Old leaves are whispering them to windowpanes.
A Jew's harp wind plays the elusive dusk.
Blueness comes in like a compelling tide.
The August fingers of the western light
Is writing us into its history book.
You promise me that good-bye will be gold
And glorious as our mortality.
Copyright,2009, Sandra Fowler
'My friend, I think the sunset knows our names./ Old leaves are whispering them to windowpanes./ A Jew's harp wind plays the elusive dusk./ Blueness comes in like a compelling tide.' Wonderful poem with vivid imagery especially the lines above.
'You promise me that good-bye will be gold And glorious as our mortality'. Sandra, your poem brings great comfort to me, especially at this moment in time. I feel a sense of peace and reassurance that everything is going to be alright <3 reminding me just how wonderful poetry can be to the soul x With great respect, Ally
There is so much depth in your poem. I keep reading it over again and contemplating. Your phrases are thought provoking. To think that a sunset knows your names. This is autumn gold.10/10
Sandraji, you live a poet's life fully.... you are beyond words.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/7/2025 7:37:56 PM # 1.0.0
One of the bifid historical themetics of humankind is what man constructs and the other one what the Nature decides for the fate. The olden life seems to be waiting for a dignified end and the path described for it is very well lit in this poem. Best Regards Naseer