Leaves and yellow curb

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“Autumn leaf gliders pile up their brittle bodies against the blackened curbs; both hug and death throes.” — Glenn A, Buttkus.

Brittle and unloved this season, with leaves transitioning in colour
before dropping to the ground,
why is it that we fail to read all that there is in shadows deep?
Your eyes in their lament speak,
only the wind
ushers away their cries as though wreaths insignificant;
could the impossible ensue so that I could kiss until you no longer
feel this emptiness, this ache
that hints at lengthening nights and shortening days.
I have known what it’s like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
so as to let sunlight cascade
to the floor unhinderedβ€”it looks as if the world could use a reminder,
it looks as if the world could use a reminder.
I was just telling Tupelo black the other day about flat bread
and semolina,

how sweetness camouflages the uneasiness that bursts from within,
what are we heading toward?
Every hour of the light and dark is nothing short of a miracle,
softer than we think,
at least we will always have the certainty of holding hands.
Society is as society does, this much I can safely vouch forβ€”
damaged goods shoved against the yellow curb,
as if to draw a line between
those who are less than privileged, imagine
a world
where this is the basis of law enforcement,
“fewer people
can laugh off the fact that they are different.”
Autumn arrives as gospel; outside the window raindrops dance
with thunder as chorus,
and my pen betrays the hot pink smear of doubt, we only have one option:
freedom to don unspoken thoughts, to strive towards inculcating an idea,
a habit, an attitude
that welcomes change; because living otherwise is exhausting.

 

 

 

 

Photo credits: “South Sound Minimalist Photos.”

I’m featuring Glenn and his fabulous site “South Sound
Minimalist
Photos,” at dVerse this evening. Come join us! πŸ’

Posted for Poetics: Exploring the realm of Minimalist Photography @dVerse Poets Pub

Comments

  1. Bjorn Rudberg says:

    So much to like in this poem, love how you used the melancholy of falling leaves to show the possibilities of change. Maybe true change can only be had by crossing the darkness of winter (or night).

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Bjorn πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  2. msjadeli says:

    I like how you wrote to the image and the idea in the caption. Our great shame:
    “damaged goods shoved against the yellow curb,”

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Lisa πŸ˜€ so glad you liked it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  3. Ingrid says:

    This is incredibly beautiful, Sanaa!
    ‘this emptiness, this ache
    that hints at lengthening nights and shortening days.’
    You have reminded me of how I feel going into autumn! Still, we must welcome change as you said πŸ™‚

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Ingrid πŸ˜€ so glad the poem resonated with you πŸ’„β€οΈ

  4. Incredible response. I love what the image pulled out of you. I get a bit of a Holocaust vibe from it. You touched on it; leaves as husks, bodies stacked like cord wood, Nazi/fascist/’police lines of demarcation. Wow, this is fun, and very gratifying for me .

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Glenn πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  5. Susan says:

    Outstanding flow covering so much but weaving it artfully into one topic!
    This is my favorite line: “ushers away their cries as though wreaths insignificant”.
    Why?
    Dying leaves have often given me the sense of desperation. Once, they were the nurturers of life and , in an instant, they’re thrown away. Well done!

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Susan πŸ˜€ so glad the poem resonated with you πŸ’„β€οΈ

  6. Sunra Rainz says:

    Gorgeous atmospheric poem, Sanaa! Every single line speaks to me, especially:
    I have known what it’s like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
    so as to let sunlight cascade
    to the floor unhinderedβ€”it looks as if the world could use a reminder,
    it looks as if the world could use a reminder.
    Stunning <3

    I also happened to choose the same image! πŸ˜€

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, my dearest Sunra πŸ˜€ so glad you liked it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  7. A great poem! Your comparisons are great as you wove your poem from leaves on the curb to discrimination to the power of words.
    Well done.

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Dwight πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  8. Tzvi Fievel says:

    “Every hour of the light and dark is nothing short of a miracle.”

    1. Sanaa says:

      Definitely πŸ™‚ thanks for stopping by, Tzvi πŸ’„β€οΈ

  9. I have known what it’s like to be a falling leaf,
    anchoring sorrow so as to let sunlight cascade
    to the floor unhindered

    Love the laments of betrayal as portrayed by the failure of falling leaves to ward off the cascades of sunlight. How often one is thwarted in one’s quests. Great free verse Sanaa!

    Hank

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Hank πŸ˜€ so glad the poem resonated with you πŸ’„β€οΈ

  10. Selma Martin says:

    Absolutely lovely. A little melancholic (ok, a lot so) but this is poetry and this is exactly where we like to be. Thanks for sharing this, Sanaa.

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Selma πŸ˜€ so glad you liked it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  11. ayala says:

    Love this!

    1. Sanaa says:

      ❀️❀️❀️

  12. Sanaa, you deserve tons of credit for a very lovely prompt and an even lovelier poem.

    my pen betrays the hot pink smear of doubt

    could you help me decipher this line? why is the smear of doubt hot pink? (please forgive my obtuseness)

    <3
    David

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, David πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

      Hot pink… because why not? πŸ™‚

  13. Christine says:

    I like how you use this yellow line as a symbol of the line drawn between people.

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Christine πŸ˜€ so good to see you πŸ’„β€οΈ

  14. Kerfe says:

    it looks as if the world could use a reminder,
    it looks as if the world could use a reminder.

    this repetition in the center of the poem is a wonderful pivot

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Kerfe πŸ˜€ so glad the poem resonated with you πŸ’„β€οΈ

  15. Helen says:

    Sanaa …. great poetry! Freedom, ideas, attitudes ~~ must maintain forward motion!!!

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Helen πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  16. Ken Gierke says:

    To go from this:
    “I have known what it’s like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
    so as to let sunlight cascade
    to the floor unhindered”
    to this:
    “…we only have one option:
    freedom to don unspoken thoughts, to strive towards inculcating an idea,
    a habit, an attitude
    that welcomes change; because living otherwise is exhausting.”

    I appreciate that turn in the narrative.

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Ken πŸ˜€ so glad you liked it πŸ’„β€οΈ

  17. Such a beautiful response, Sanaa! πŸ’™
    I like how you go from the personal to discussing the world.
    I particularly liked:
    “I have known what it’s like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
    so as to let sunlight cascade. . .”
    And
    “Every hour of the light and dark is nothing short of a miracle,”

    1. Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Merril πŸ˜€ so glad the poem resonated with you πŸ’„β€οΈ

  18. How do you do it? Such beauty in those words. I’m especially struck by the last few lines – indeed living without welcoming change is exhausting, a losing and unnecessary battle.

    1. Sanaa says:

      Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Mubashshira πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

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