From tiny beginnings to oceans I discovered the world in words

November 8

I think that I have written
all I can about these leaves
that have changed from green to golden
and all colours in between

but did I fail to mention
how loud the bird song sounds
now branches and the trunks are bare
and the leaves all on the ground

then how the blackbird searches
tossing leaves up as he goes
he simply flips them over
his beak bright as sunshine glows

the rustling of the kickings
of childrens flailing feet
or the crunch as they are rolling
down the hillside on repeat

the artist with his brush strokes
recreates the autumn scene
with yellow ochre and burnt umber
and just a few tiny spots of green

so this is where the problem lies
to find words not already written
when all around is beautiful
and with autumn you are smitten.



Comments on: "November 8" (4)

  1. What a wonderful poem – you solved the problem of ‘writing words not already written’ superbly! 🙂

  2. I am indeed smitten with Autumn. I think though that you will be able to find more words 🙂

  3. The assorted thoughts are wonderful as I watched our big oak tree decide today was the day to allow her leaves to jump from her branches. And you could hear the rustling of my kickings as I went out to play. I love it.

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