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 spoke through the ouija:
Love despite the weather. So beautiful!
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.
I think 58 degrees is the perfect temperature to snuggle up.
just look at the colors....vibrant as you!
If only it could get down to 58 degrees...I'd love it as well!!
A nostalgic piece. Thank you, Shay!
Now I want Vermont maple candy!
58ยบ is winter here.
Have I told you I don't really like poetry? Have I told you how much I love what you write?
And, not being a poet, I read you.
There is NOTHING I like better than cold days, falling leaves and the occasional fire.
I enjoyed the read
have a colourful day
cold, chilly and windy days were made for poets... have a beautiful day!
I suspect Love would hold true for -58 degrees. For me, certainly !
Ditto what Mama Zen said...
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