Horizon Tide
In hearing what’s hiding in the horizon’s insidious tide,
Autumnal terror trickles into my cochlear sides.
Whence warmth has melded the meadows with mind,
What’s welded is melted by the temperature’s decline.
And thus from the Earth a consciousness slips,
As a leaf believes that its tree no longer offers it sips.
Weep for me as I for you,
All who I, for but a season, knew.
Copyright © B. Joseph Fitzsimons | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment