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PotW #107
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October is Speaking
- Christopher Krajenka (1972-)

    The leaves fade to umber
    And descend on the wind
    Where they turn pirouettes
    And fall soft to the ground
    Reach out with a slow
    Swollen, arthrtic hand
    In the hope to catch just one
    As a memory to hold
    Gone to seed, has the meadow
    Where the blackbirds still flock
    But shall linger no longer
    Came a call to take flight
    And your face, the reflection
    In the pond looks so gray
    And the lines have gone deeper
    Since the last time you came
    There's a chill in the whisper
    Of an old friend from abroad
    October is speaking
    And you welcome him home


© 1998 Christopher Krajenka.
The above poem is protected by copyright and as such should not be printed out or stored in any permanent form without permission of the copyright holder. It was submitted by its author, and appears here by permission.