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New Fall Fashions
by Kristina WoodhillEverywhere she gazes
tiny paint brushes at work
like Banksy in the night
adding mystery to each mornings' magic
magic in each tree's canopy
guiding invisible strokes of splashes of brash color clashes
not one arguing leaf among them
a rush to be next
oh, what a fluttering discussion of choices!
beside the pond
where she walks daily
willow tree
half yellow
pointing with pinnate precocious opinion
LOOK at me look AT me look at ME
its neighbors pause
still preening in green summer shorts
stunned by
a runway runaway of colors
declaring to high heaven
I want THAT! 10/18/2017 Posted on 10/18/2017
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rob Littler on 10/21/17 at 09:40 AM quite a nice portrait
of existencilism
leaves leaving
shhhhhh'ure was particularly pleasing to palettes of eye and ear
dear |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 11/07/17 at 01:22 PM Kristina, I much enjoyed this poem. It flows smoother than a beaverless stream. Each word, each foot, each meter of it finds its way and never stumbles. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 11/21/17 at 07:35 PM Having been seduced by 'fluttering discussion', my cortex was captured by S3, having an intimate, though implicit relationship with WW (beside the lake, beneath the trees), contrasting that inner eye with the demands of the egocentric id (if that's not a contrdiction in terminal drivel).
To wrap it up with the ultimate mismatched destination and desire—you have an emphatic result here. |
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