September Mask Poem by john clinock
September Mask
Torn by autumn
up against the wall,
and the fall is long.
across the street
trees dance in glory
and radiant romance.
his feet are frozen,
rooted and bare,
layered in mud.
can’t go back,
unable to proceed.
seeds become sterile.
painted by the season
his September face
is a wasted mask.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
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4/25/2024 5:09:44 PM # 1.0.0.1119
