My November
24 October, 2009
Author: Pamela O'Brien
The leaves are gathering
Hiding in corners
Where they think they won't be found
They form tornadoes
Of rusty orange and brown
I interrupt their dancing
They brush against my skin
I can feel their weight
Their restlessness;
And I can see their broken veins
They watch from the sidelines
Of the sidewalks
Or the trees
Where a few determined soldiers
Remain hanging lifelessly
You can hear them whisper
As they tumble
A crackle in their voice
Not yet dead, but slowly dying
Haunting autumn ghosts.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Meridian (205.188.116.135) -- Saturday, October 24 2009, 05:38 pm Pamela! Very visual. I love the line, "They form tornadoes," because that's exactly what leaves do when it's really windy. They sort of form a swirl. |
| Pamela (75.159.149.213) -- Saturday, October 24 2009, 08:11 pm Exactly what they do.....and I stepped into the middle of a leaf tornado the other day, which is what inspired this poem. Then the entire walk home I couldn't stop staring at all the leaves..... |
| barb (67.58.197.120) -- Monday, October 26 2009, 07:47 pm a very accurate description put into understandable writing. yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaa |
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