Tuesday, October 17, 2017


The green leaves are still clinging
to boughs
Only the sudden gusts of cold wind
tears the canvas
to a calligraphy of sticks  
beside mulched green apples
pregnant with smell of rain

I marvel the sea of colors-
greens, oranges & burnt browns
filling up the sky, with dots of
orange pumpkins, yellow corn squash-

This season is too short
much like a hurried kiss
pressed between hello & goodbye-
That space
between words,
unaccounted, yet a heavy presence- 

Still autumn never burns
deeply under the skin,
Don't leave me, ever-

Instead, I fall
rolling with the season - 
falling into the piles of dying things- 
entwining with black soil & seeds of spring- 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, hosted by Kim Russell - Thanks for the visit ~


  1. Gorgeous! Autumn is far too short, "much like a hurried kiss
    pressed between hello & goodbye-"... I'd stay in this season eternally, if only possible.

  2. Yes this part of autumn should be longer... the part left until winter feels like drowning.

  3. I too would stay in this season. It is lovely. Your poem evokes all the sbeauty ofit.

  4. Wow! That's a superb piece. Love the calligraphy of sticks image and the way you draw us in to a much more powerful undercurrent of meaning.

  5. Oh I love this, Grace! You've created wonderful images with:
    '...sudden gusts of cold wind
    tears the canvas
    to a calligraphy of sticks
    beside mulched green apples
    pregnant with smell of rain' - I can smell it!
    and, yes, autumn is too short - what a beautiful way to describe its brevity:
    'much like a hurried kiss
    pressed between hello & goodbye'.

  6. A beautiful lament of the brevity this season holds, I love 'This season is too short much like a hurried kiss
    pressed between hello & goodbye'

  7. I do like those last few lines. Great imagery!

  8. Calligraphy of sticks! Love that image; so uniquely you.

  9. A lot can sure happen when pressed between hello and goodbye.

  10. Autumn seems too short to me as well. I like your link at the end of dying, black soil and seeds of spring.

  11. Wonderful, Grace. My favourite season, wish it lasted longer. Wish everything lasted longer, at this time of my life. LOL.

  12. You place us right there, Grace, surrounded by your words.

  13. Loved this line, "calligraphy of sticks".

  14. I like the fun way you describe the brevity of autumn.

  15. Only you Grace can pen a picture of Autumn so delicate and yet so deep. I love the play with the words fall and falling and could drink this poem from a tall glass, slowly.

  16. falling into the piles of dying things-
    entwining with black soil & seeds of spring-

    One very much like to get back straight to spring forgetting winter. Such an abhorrence of the cold!


  17. Hurried kiss that one wouldn't like to miss :) :)

  18. Beautiful, elegant poem. Your poetry always touches me deeply. Jane

  19. Is it Autumn? Or is it only Fall by the words of the calendar? It may well be February before the piles of leaves are large enough to roll in and prepare the soil for a new season.

  20. This felt so gentle like a whisper.

  21. I like your site and content. thanks for sharing the information keep updating, looking forward for more posts.

  22. Wonderful, wonderful images. 'much like a hurried kiss' ... fantastic ... with a whiffle of fanciful.


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