Here, the transition between fall and winter is slow and drawn out.
Frosty mornings can be followed by warm days.
Flurries can change into soft showers.
Heavy rain can become hail.
One night brings thunder and lightning, another howling winds.
And it carries on like this.
Until it doesn’t.
I’ve fallen behind on my posting, so it’s interesting to look back on this batch of poems from three or four weeks ago. Their mix of imagery seems to clearly reflect this strange in between time.
Keep reading and see what you think.
(1)
the sound of rain
slightly different now
I get another blanket
(2)
fishbowl
on the outside
looking in
(3)
descending
in every window
a new story
(4)
this chill in the air
if only it were
just winter
(5)
boom boom daddy
wooooow
first thunderstorm
(6)
carried away
in the waiting room
a violin crescendo
(7)
changing my tires
I lean into the smell
of a wood stove
As always, thank you for reading.
