Sonny Rainshine


Octobering - Poem by Sonny Rainshine

Every year about this time
you start octobering.
You’ve long tired of
juning and julying
and it’s too early
to go decembering.

It’s as if the world
has turned brown, yellow,
red, and mostly orange.
Everywhere pumpkins pop up,
in the field next door,
on the window sill,
in the reflections
in your autumnish eyes.

You were made for fall,
or was it designed for you?
The tart crispness of nights,
the tart ripeness of late harvest
fruit, the tart taste of things
dying, yes, dying but
not yet dead.

As for me, I’ll go marching,
marching forward toward May,
the month of warmth and
expectation, the season of blues and greens,
in which, of course,
lie the saps and syrups
of darker colors.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 29, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 12, 2011


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