Menoogling; Serendipitous Findings

Getting all nostalgic yesterday on the subject of September and, by default, the turning of seasons, I found myself going off in search of some poetic views on the matter. There was one poem in particular which tugged at my memory, but that eluded me.  Plenty others were found though.

Popular subject is autumn!  One of my favourite poets is William Carlos Williams.  I love how he states what is before him then colours it in.

The half-stripped trees 
struck by a wind together, 
bending all, 
the leaves flutter drily 
and refuse to let go 
or driven like hail 
stream bitterly out to one side 
and fall 
where the salvias, hard carmine-- 
like no leaf that ever was-- 
edge the bare garden.


Perhaps a little ahead of the game to be thinking of the falling crispness; yet already there is a 'tone' in the air.

4 comments:

  1. So far... HERE the only real sign of Autumn we can detect...is that it now gets Dark much earlier in the evening. We miss the LONG Sunny days...

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  2. There is a bit of a chill to the evening and early mornings here in the NorthWest US, beautiful poem!

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  3. Nearly a fortnight on from when you posted that, it is increasingly appropriate, Yam. :)

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