Frank Avon


Outside My Window Xix - Poem by Frank Avon

It's rainy.
It's Týrsday.
And all I see

are bare trees
a gray sky
brown leaves
blown into heaps

one last rose
incongruous

and up close
at my back
the burning bush

and all I hear
is when it speaks

TO BE

Topic(s) of this poem: autumn, nature


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Týrsday, of course, is Tuesday. Týr was once chief/father of the gods, the bringer of law. His name is cognate with the Indo-European 'deus.'

Comments about Outside My Window Xix by Frank Avon

  • Kelly Kurt (11/17/2015 7:51:00 PM)


    Thanks for the notes, Frank. It has been a long, cold rainy day here too. Some petunias and marigolds still decorate but by Friday night it will be in the teens. I look forward to your descriptions of your window views. You are a brilliant writer and observer. Thanks (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags


Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Poem Edited: Tuesday, November 17, 2015


[Report Error]