Reason A. Poteet Poet Enclosed Rhyme

Woolgathering In Autumn

Leaves chant in brown, "Thirty days hath November, too." 
What is that I hear? I draw a lingering breath,
as I contemplate this year, the outwash of death.
Autumn has arrived. And I remember anew...

We grasshoppers rest, unlike the diligent ant;
chills we don't address and our breakdowns break again.
Short of sevenfold success, winter will bring pain.
My hope: that God will bless our striving, scarce and scant.

At this November's arrival, the count is bleak;
we search for humility; second, we lack truth.
Where is civility? Murder and theft reign uncouth.
For mankind's survival, selfish mayhem we wreak.

Are we connecting the dots of winter's design?
In our bent to fight, peace and patience are displaced;
whereas compassion and foresight we have disgraced,
to deliberate woolgathering we resign.


October 7, 2020

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Harry Horsman October 9, 2020 at 1:47 AM Wow, so profound, your poem, Reason A. stay strong, winter will soon be here... Reason A. Poteet October 10, 2020 at 1:22 AM thank you, Harry; winter may be harsh in 2020 representative of the entire year. Appreciate your comment and I offer applause.

Constance La France October 7, 2020 at 7:59 AM Reason, a very thought provoking write, best of luck in the contest _Constance Reason A. Poteet October 8, 2020 at 5:57 AM Thanks, Constance. Appreciate your remarks, Post contest - I have adapted it perhaps to use at a later time. Look up! have a great day in the midst of unrest.