Autumntide
November 28th 2018
Hey world,
We have made it into the cold, wet, transitional stage of autumn into winter: November. It is a time of fires being lit and the sun leaving abrubtly in the early afternoon. This is the time for thick scarves and thin trees. Taking inspiration from my grey surroundings I have written two poems about Autumn. I have been trying to reassess my poetry writing style: ever since I was little I have had the tendency to make my poems into lengthy epics that bore the readers in the first stanza. Because of this, I have been trying to condense my poems, I have been trying to distill them down into a single drop of gold. I read somewhere recently that poetry is what happens when you stop for a minute and all you do is feel. Following this quote’s message, here is what I wrote:
Autumntide
The sky decided to unfold its its grief
for us down below on the russet
November earth, our forests and hedges losing their cranberry rash and beginning to resemble
a door mat.
These days I am tired, and the sun seems to be in a similar state, going to bed earlier and earlier every night.
The trees shake off the last of their thick summer hair, bracing their skeletal frames against the boreal wind that bears the geese above me, heading off to sunnier destinations:
I am tempted to join them.
–A. HeezenThe sky decided to unfold its its grief
for us down below on the russet
November earth, our forests and hedges losing their cranberry rash and beginning to resemble
a door mat.
These days I am tired, and the sun seems to be in a similar state, going to bed earlier and earlier every night.
The trees shake off the last of their thick summer hair, bracing their skeletal frames against the boreal wind that bears the geese above me, heading off to sunnier destinations:
I am tempted to join them.
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