Annual Middle Years
by Glenn Currier
I catch autumn creeping
in the window before dawn.
She smudges her singular scent
of farewell and greeting
on my lips
and arouses me.
I witness history
on my morning walk
when gusts startle elms
and shake a gold rush
into the region
of my eyes.
I happen upon
a choir of mums
singing their opening song,
their white trumpets blare
and declare new life
to yellow corpses
and the dying lying throng.
I witness history
in the annual middle years
where heat waves bye
and chill of winter nears.
Posted on 11/10/2002
Copyright © 2020 Glenn Currier
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by JD Clay on 11/11/02 at 04:31 AM|
A wonderfully cleansing reminder of rejuvination with the laws of nature at work. Good energy here Glenn. Peace...
|Posted by Charles E Minshall on 11/11/02 at 05:30 AM|
Good autumn poem Glenn. I could see it in my minds eye through your poem.....Charlie
|Posted by Anne Howe on 11/11/02 at 06:11 AM|
very appealing to the senses and a wonderful tale of two changing seasons..the last two lines are a perfect conculusion....thank you
|Posted by Anne Engelen on 11/11/02 at 06:25 AM|
Your poetry is so vivid. It's so wonderfully easy to become part of the painted picture. Thank you for this scene. It really came alive!!
|Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 11/11/02 at 01:54 PM|
we should all have such autumnal symphonies seeping through to our awareness and scented of spring to boot.
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/11/02 at 03:16 PM|
Superb addition to Autumn's poetry, Glenn!
|Posted by Betania Tesch on 11/14/02 at 12:38 AM|
you're just too damn cool for words. and I'm late on telling you that so you'll just have to love me more for it. this rolls over my world.
|Posted by Vimal Rony on 11/15/02 at 04:54 AM|
A poem that invokes a season of feelings
|Posted by Mara Meade on 12/17/02 at 02:35 PM|
I could see this with you as you walked... the mums, too, finally giving in to the cold... wonderful sensory poem, Glenn.