October Sunday
surround sound rain;
I’m inside, out -
my feet feel bare,
naked, chilled.
fan forced to quit.
arms of Autumn breeze.
birds in the woods breathing
in the season’s petrichor.
noisy rascal - lamenting or
welcoming rain.
I welcome the swooshy-drops,
abiding chirps, puddling moss.
here it comes, the source
of time - lurking around wet bark,
reminiscents of perfumed family,
sloshing through crispy leaves,
pink coat
and galoshes,
yellow bus.
rain floats on air, infiltrates inside,
wetting my tongue and eyelashes-
perhaps those are tears. at last
too cold - boldness of October Sunday.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.