November, when fields are tinged with both right and wrong

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When the night comes, they gather and speak as one
longing to touch
and feel with fingertips cold
as though to emphasize a point–
they fling the moon as an orange peel
savagely
into the fields every now and then.

Did the sourwood blush just now?
Did the wind just break in through the window?
I dare not wake, not lift my lashes lest I become a slave
to their rhythm,
their moans are gunfire that play on repeat.

There is something about the words that form
in the line of my mouth,
caffeinated tears that flow like November guilt,
these creatures come unbidden
silently admiring your language, your length and form.

I hear an incubus frantically pacing outside in the bushes
urging me to give in to lust,
I’ll come unguarded if you promise to destroy me
light my lips
in shades of scarlet and gold
as predictability is drowned by the bubbling of a stream–
keep me enticed
until the early morning, when shadows part and the world’s
bathed in light.
Can you feel the determination in my eyes?
Come now,
admit you are afraid.

 

 

Photo credits: Jolygram

Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United

Posted on ‘Open Link Night’ @ DVerse Pub

52 thoughts on “November, when fields are tinged with both right and wrong

  1. Eileen T O'Neill says:

    Sanna,

    I think your poem contains many of the ingredients that go to make-up November and this time of year. The sounds, lights and an inbuilt fear of the many meanings attached to it..you have captured it very well..

  2. Jim says:

    Sanaa, you sound so endearing here. Ghosts aren’t afraid of you one bit and for sure you (you, the writer) aren’t afraid of them. I.e. I liked your ending a lot. Was “Casper the Friendly Ghost” still on your TV when you were growing up?
    ..

  3. Sherry Blue Sky says:

    You have captured an eerie mood in this poem to perfection, Sanaa. Did you mean lift your lashes? The incubus pacing is an awesome touch, as is “I’ll come unguarded if you promise to destroy me.” So well done!

    • Sanaa says:

      Oops! ❤️ Yes ‘lift your lashes,’ thank you for pointing it out Sherry 😀 must have been a typing error. So glad you enjoyed the poem! ❤️

  4. Stranded Tree says:

    First thought, Wow, I really like this.
    “caffeinated tears that flow like November guilt” and “…until the early morning, when shadows part and the world’s bathed in light” – I’ve been going back to these two thoughts for a while: tears and the transition of the shadow world at dawn and dusk.
    And again, this is very good. Thank you for creating this small world for us.

  5. Kim M. Russell says:

    I love the title, Sanaa, the idea of fields tinged with right and wrong, and the elusive ‘they’ in the first line, only implied or referred to as ‘creatures’. You have some wonderful imagery in this poem, for example, the similes ‘they fling the moon as an orange peel’ and ‘caffeinated tears that flow like November guilt’, and the metaphor ‘their moans are gunfire that play on repeat’ – although I think it should be ‘plays on repeat’.

  6. Bjorn Rudberg says:

    Oh … you really hit back to the critter… maybe the passionate incubus can only be conquered with a passion even greater.

  7. Glenn Buttkus says:

    Coming in late, I can only add to the accolades. You are the mistress of sensual poetics, getting our pulses racing, leaving us breathless. I like the three lines Kim singled out, and I love thje sassy ending.

  8. Laura Bloomsbury says:

    the rights are wrongs come into focus then drift into another meaning, another question. The poem is like the breeze that lifts the curtain and touches all the places in the room, lightly and giving the reader some luscious lines
    “Did the sourwood blush just now?”
    “they fling the moon as an orange peel”
    “their moans are gunfire that play on repeat.”

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