

“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 itβs like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
so as to let sunlight cascade
to the floor unhinderedβit 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! π
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).
Thank you so much, Bjorn π so glad you enjoyed it πβ€οΈ
I like how you wrote to the image and the idea in the caption. Our great shame:
“damaged goods shoved against the yellow curb,”
Thank you so much, Lisa π so glad you liked it πβ€οΈ
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 π
Thank you so much, Ingrid π so glad the poem resonated with you πβ€οΈ
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 .
Thank you so much, Glenn π so glad you enjoyed it πβ€οΈ
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!
Thank you so much, Susan π so glad the poem resonated with you πβ€οΈ
Gorgeous atmospheric poem, Sanaa! Every single line speaks to me, especially:
I have known what itβs like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
so as to let sunlight cascade
to the floor unhinderedβit 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! π
Thank you so much, my dearest Sunra π so glad you liked it πβ€οΈ
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.
Thank you so much, Dwight π so glad you enjoyed it πβ€οΈ
“Every hour of the light and dark is nothing short of a miracle.”
Definitely π thanks for stopping by, Tzvi πβ€οΈ
I have known what itβs 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
Thank you so much, Hank π so glad the poem resonated with you πβ€οΈ
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.
Thank you so much, Selma π so glad you liked it πβ€οΈ
Love this!
β€οΈβ€οΈβ€οΈ
Sanaa, you deserve tons of credit for a very lovely prompt and an even lovelier poem.
could you help me decipher this line? why is the smear of doubt hot pink? (please forgive my obtuseness)
<3
David
Thank you so much, David π so glad you enjoyed it πβ€οΈ
Hot pink… because why not? π
I like how you use this yellow line as a symbol of the line drawn between people.
Thank you so much, Christine π so good to see you πβ€οΈ
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
Thank you so much, Kerfe π so glad the poem resonated with you πβ€οΈ
Sanaa …. great poetry! Freedom, ideas, attitudes ~~ must maintain forward motion!!!
Thank you so much, Helen π so glad you enjoyed it πβ€οΈ
To go from this:
“I have known what itβs 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.
Thank you so much, Ken π so glad you liked it πβ€οΈ
Such a beautiful response, Sanaa! π
I like how you go from the personal to discussing the world.
I particularly liked:
“I have known what itβs 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,”
Thank you so much, Merril π so glad the poem resonated with you πβ€οΈ
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.
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Mubashshira π so glad you enjoyed it πβ€οΈ