Becoming Autumn
Every winter I promise myself
next year I’ll be out there,
become the summer, breathing
sun-cream, sweet peas
dazed by the fervour
of full sunlight, tickled
by grasses in bloom.
Drop this life of views
from fast train windows,
flashes of things
I yearn to explore, but
……….they’ve gone
……………………….past.
Today I picked
the last roar of roses,
took them inside,
colour and scent seeping,
imperfect, blemished, fading:
all living louder
than we did before.
Hope and longing, intensity lost and captured, within a persuasive narrative of scene and imagery: ‘dazed by the fervour of full sunlight’
‘colour and scent seeping’ … while the poem remains, to speak …
Thanks for reading and encouraging William
Lovely poem and clever.