Posted by: Thomas Drinkard | October 23, 2012

A Poem for Fall

I’d almost forgotten this poem.  I accidentally found it when I was doing a search on an unrelated topic. It’s really a poem for later  in the year, but it works whenever leaves are falling.

Autumn Caveat

It’s mornings like this:
The stingy sun trying to hold back
Even the warmth of its reflection
Flashing cold fire in the lake.
When November leaves drop in sudden gusts,
Like a red and yellow flock of birds
Swooping at once to ground.
Or even nights:
When winds reach wet hands
To take you spinning with random paper
Down back street gutters, under straining bridges
To clogged rivers.
It’s this:
The time of year, along with spring,
When poets must take care
Not to sing the same old songs
Stolen from tribal memory.
 
Thomas R. Drinkard

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Responses

  1. Damn, that’s good.

  2. Get’s better every time I read it. Going to copy it on paper and let Nate show his Creative writing teacher (give her an idea where his poetry gene began) Love Mike

    Sent from my iPhone

    • Thank you, Son. You gave him the music, I may have given some poetry. Maybe he can write complete songs, now.

  3. Nice. I like it.


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