poetry critical

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Autumn
paigebrand33

I take a deep breath of autumn that I loathe so much
 1
The cold still air rakes at my cheeks and reddens the tip of my nose
 2
The trees are orange and brown. Unmoving.
 3
Sometimes a faint breeze slips through the branches
 4
And knocks a dead leaf or two from its old perch.
 5
I stop in my tracks to observe how one tumbles this way and that
 6
Lurching toward the sparkling, frosty grass under my wet boots.
 7
Sometimes it seems to pause, think about where it’s going and change directions
 8
But it’s always making its way to the same place
 9
It just changes its approach.
 10
Death.  That’s where we are all going.
 11
My cracked lips start to smile, but I wince at the pain
 12
Some blood rushes to the surface and I lick it away.
 13
The leaf is closer to my head now.
 14
My eyes rest as the sun is blocked out for half a second as it pauses again mid flight
 15
It turns toward me and caresses my bright red nose
 16
With its dry, brown edges
 17
And finally falls to the ground where it will rest until it returns to the dirt
 18
From dirt to mighty tree
 19
However slow, however fast, it will once again become a leaf
 20
Just to fall again and caress someone elses cheek
 21
 
 
The world seems to be on fire.
 22
I glance as the frozen grass shards under me
 23
And back up to the tree tops over the lake.
 24
My eyes begin to water from the cold and I smile again
 25
This time letting my lip rip fully open
 26
A red drop squeezes its way fully out of the slit and a tear begins to slip from my eye
 27
I wipe my mouth and watch how the beautiful cherry red turns to dirt on my white sleeve
 28
And the tear falls to the ground with a slight thud on the leaf I watched fall from the tree
 29
 
 
Maybe there’s no way to choose which direction you approach death from
 30
Trial and error perhaps
 31
Or maybe we are simply blown by the wind.
 32
 
 
Now, another leaf falls into the bubbling water below me
 33
Perched upon the ripples it does not stay to linger
 34
It creates a set of its own as it’s washed away by the current
 35
Around the corner and out of sight forever.
 36
I’ll follow
 37

10 Nov 15


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(3 more poems by this author)



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