November— be kind
be soft and forgiving.
Do not wash with haste our summer sin
in frozen purity.
Do not rip apart traces of an embered sun
and crystallize barren branches in a flick
of temper.
Do not wilt those mums and blue mist,
let them fade away with grace
Do not have your breath congeal
on blades of grass,
save some trouble for winter.
November— be kind
be gentle.
Fading hues are what I need,
growing over treetops slowly like
Earth and Time
cooling from the head to the heart.
With care descend to oblivion and
leave some
space
to breathe.
November— hold back on
your urgency,
you await withering verdure either way.
A sepia sepulcher for a
technicolor dream,
growing bitter in the cool, damp air.
November— be kind,
take your passive time this year.
YOU ARE READING
Celestial Thoughts
PoetryI'm constantly ebbing between states of complete creative blockages, and endless streams of consciousness flowing through my hands. Here's a few poems to come out of the strangeness of the past two years. I hope you enjoy :)
