Friday, August 17, 2018

August Requiem



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.
  
©Susie Clevenger 2018



9 comments:

  1. My goodness this is good! That second stanza is pure gold and pierces through with incredible emotion. Powerful writing, Susie!πŸ’ž

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  2. Ooh, 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.
    Some really good penmanship. :-)
    -HA

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  3. The opening image is very strong indeed and sets the tone for the remainder. each stanza adds weight to the whole piece.

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  4. Awesome progression in this poem! Well thought out.

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  5. I am sure you mis-judge autumn, she usually has something spectacular to show us! What beautiful imagery you created with your words.

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  6. ice-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.

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  7. Poor summer and those dying trees. We also have a small Magnolia that probably won't make it.
    ..

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  8. Bitterly sad/angry, and as always beautifully said. I was particularly struck by 'I ice cube a prayer / across my brow'.

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