Monday, September 28, 2009

Fifty-Eight Degrees



Everyone woke up complaining...

It is fifty-eight degrees,

Damp,

And windy.

Everyone else is complaining,

But you--

You would have loved it.


When the leaves'

Little sugar-making machines

Shut down,

Well then they're on stage

Like a bunch of rotten little Camilles.


Oh but I can understand

The loss of something essential.

Not being a leaf,

I write poems.


Today it is fifty-eight degrees,

Damp,

And windy.

Everyone is complaining,

But you--

You would have loved it

And I--

I would have loved you,

And the chill, windy day

As well.

_______

13 comments:

Dulce said...

Love despite the weather. So beautiful!

Elizabeth Bradley said...

Just between you and me, (I'm whispering), so many poems posted on blogs are forgettable at best. This poem is remarkable. I'm going back to read it again.

K said...

I think 58 degrees is the perfect temperature to snuggle up.

Kay said...

just look at the colors....vibrant as you!

Scarlet said...

If only it could get down to 58 degrees...I'd love it as well!!

A nostalgic piece. Thank you, Shay!

Riot Kitty said...

Now I want Vermont maple candy!

ellen abbott said...

58º is winter here.

Have I told you I don't really like poetry? Have I told you how much I love what you write?

Mama Zen said...

And, not being a poet, I read you.

pheromone girl said...

There is NOTHING I like better than cold days, falling leaves and the occasional fire.

Pete said...

I enjoyed the read
have a colourful day

Shadow said...

cold, chilly and windy days were made for poets... have a beautiful day!

mac said...

I suspect Love would hold true for -58 degrees. For me, certainly !

Pouty Lips said...

Ditto what Mama Zen said...