New England In The Fall Poem by Tony Noon
New England In The Fall
The cities are cooling;
debuilding themselves
as the year ripens.
Soon there will be
no towers,
no reliable terraces
cluttered with chat.
Soon there will be
no love
lost in scrap metal valleys;
no room at boarded inns.
Mirrors will be darkened
or destroyed and the ashes
of brown furniture will be
scattered at boot fairs.
Already, where pie crust
promises fell to earth,
rewritten lines have
broken through.
Cajoling us to start again from here.
Tony Noon
Well expressed thoughts and feelings. Thanks for sharing, Tony. Remain enriched.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:50:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
It's a beautiful poem.You have painted the environment changes and then it's reformation into a new thing. The lines has metamorphic images of destruction.The last line kept me spell bound.Thank you for sharing the poem with us.
Welcome please if you have time please read my poems too.
Your comments are much appreciated. Thank You.