Outside my window
the sun boils summer
into rotted tea.
I ice cube a prayer
across my brow and
wonder how many
pretty words will survive
the sorrow of dying petals.
Autumn will be a bitter queen
when she learns there are
no brilliant colors to weave into
her crown.
My goodness this is good! That second stanza is pure gold and pierces through with incredible emotion. Powerful writing, Susie!💞
ReplyDeleteOoh, quite a contrast in the two poems. I loved the sun boiling summer into rotted tea — that's how I would explain the kind of cuppa that I make for myself.
ReplyDeleteSome really good penmanship. :-)
-HA
The opening image is very strong indeed and sets the tone for the remainder. each stanza adds weight to the whole piece.
ReplyDeleteAwesome progression in this poem! Well thought out.
ReplyDeleteI am sure you mis-judge autumn, she usually has something spectacular to show us! What beautiful imagery you created with your words.
ReplyDeleteice-cube as a verb? I love it! holy hell - that is brilliant, and well, as a prayer?? Absolutely amazing. This expression just begs for the telling of the heat, the oppression ... and is so wildly creative. Awesome. Just awesome. Great poem.
ReplyDeletePoor summer and those dying trees. We also have a small Magnolia that probably won't make it.
ReplyDelete..
Bitterly sad/angry, and as always beautifully said. I was particularly struck by 'I ice cube a prayer / across my brow'.
ReplyDeleteOh wow. I LOVE this!
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