by Richard Vince
The Sun is too low now to
Melt the frost; instead, it
Highlights the beauty of the world
And fades the horizon into
The sky in layers.
It turns the grass the same shade
As the aging trees, as though
It were sharing in the mourning
For the departed summer.
The world is in sympathy, and
So, now, am I: with the coming
Of autumn, my heart is waking,
Just as the trees begin to
Drift gently into slumber.
Something in the short days
And long shadows speaks to me
Like nothing else. I am moved
By the hitherto ignored.
My eyes and my heart are open,
And are overflowing with
All the beauty I missed.
Posted on 11/19/2010
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Anita Mac on 11/20/10 at 03:39 AM|
This is pretty much the opposite of my own feelings on the sunject, but your words are so wonderful that I'm actually jealous of your take on it.
|Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/21/10 at 05:46 PM|
Well said. That last stanza in particular.
|Posted by Tony Whitaker on 11/22/10 at 09:22 AM|
I feel exactly like this with the onset of autumn. I seems, at this point in my life, I never get depressed, but relish in writing using a dark, Stephen Kingesque style as you have so well written here.
|Posted by A. Reed on 02/21/11 at 09:26 PM|
INtensely beautiful...well done, thank you...