David Walker Poet Rhyme

Listen to poem:

The Dry Ice of November

The Dry Ice of November
David J Walker

There was
 once a time 
dead leaves devoid of pallor 
Were raked into a 
a mound of pyre 
Great heaps dissolved
In a funeral fire 
Releasing the last of
What they were
Into the Autumn air
The scent of 
dry November
from a distance 
announced everywhere 
Then
The cold
	Seemed that much
Colder
And the November sun
	Much less bolder
Returning so much later
	In the morning East
Dissolving sooner in the
Evening West 

The dry ice of November
A precursor 
To the winter

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

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

Wendy Watson November 15, 2020 at 12:26 PM I love the images created here, David and could almost smell those burning leaves and hear the crackling of the fire in my imagination. I'm not sure why and no pun is intended here but I felt a touch of Frost as I read it. You have a real gift in your ability to draw us in with your beautiful voice too. I really enjoyed this. David Walker November 15, 2020 at 3:07 PM Thank you Wendy, Very kind words. I have vivid memories of burning leaves in Autumn in Colorado as a young boy. I would help my father rake them up and he would strike a match. I love Autumn. I loved the first snow before Christmas too.