Lament of a Season



Cornfields tall cut short by farmer’s scythe

Frost greeting each long-shadowed sunrise

Days seem to be but a flashing of light

Before again the cold and dark of night


It oddly seems a bit quieter now

An absence of nested fur and fowl

And breath brings with it steaming cloud

A view of each word spoken out loud


Snow has yet to blanket in white

Empty tree and field the only sight

For the snap and chill of winter’s hand

Pushes across a barren land


Oh, to miss the falling of the leaves

A rainbowed hue that truly deceives

Like mastered trick in a magic show

The coming of the winter snow


I knew that you could not long stay

But I held out hope anyway

Alas, you will pass I fear

Gone from me for another year



9 Responses to “Lament of a Season”
  1. I feel the lament in your words.

  2. Jim Borden says:

    beautiful imagery, but I can’t wait till you start writing poems about summer! 🙂

  3. blindzanygirl says:

    This is lovely

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