Summer's Withered Bloom
The carcass of beauty spent and done
picked clean by scavengers of time;
whose sated memories of summer
ask for no quarter and offer none.
Winter winds tango with scattered leaves
in tune with a different drummer;
spinning fragments of color and light
into chromatic threads, Autumn weaves.
A scarecrow showing signs of neglect,
looks outlandish, with no crops in sight;
a hobo haphazardly homespun,
on guard, with naught but mud to protect.
When fledgling goslings learn how to fly,
geese follow the monarch butterfly;
and flock south, their honks splitting the sky,
bidding Summer's withered bloom goodbye.
“The carcass of beauty spent and done”
William Shakespeare.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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