Autumn is not the end

Published on by Laura Bloomsbury 
1.
They're paired again. Autumn and drab rain
dropping, dripping, the way to decay. 
A tearful path of bister down to earth.

2.
October brims the brook. Full pelt
besides the railway track, all gush
and gurgle down to the cold, stone bridge.

3.
Foggy morning heron descends on stilts
a slate wader, careful to disturb the catch.
They say only Halcyon1 lights our long lost days.

4.
Greyer still and I paint mostly  neutrals now
bundling brushstrokes into abstract. Wild asemic 2
swirls disguise your name as dedication.

5.
Colours seep from our memoir. Keepsakes
dessicate in my hand. But winter is holding out
a promise, to sleep once more with you.
  1. Genus of Tree Kingfisher – associated with calm days of winter from a Greek myth of love, death, & transfiguration [more] ↩︎
  2. using lines and symbols that look like writing, but do not have any meaning: ↩︎

For my MTB prompt “Imagism in 5” we are writing a Cadralor that has 5 distinct imagist stanzas each with a subtle association whilst #5 draws them together into a poem of love and yearning.

I have mirrored the stanzas I wrote for a previous Cadralor – A third October

12 thoughts on “Autumn is not the end”

  1. I love the dampness of your autumn Cadralor, Laura, and the way it moves through the stanzas towards winter, helped by the slant internal rhyme ’dropping, dripping’, and the alliterative ‘gush and gurgle’. I especially love the ‘foggy morning heron…a slate wader’,  and the seeping colours.

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  2. I love the movement from fall to winter: autumn and drab rain, October brimming the brook, fog and long lost days, and the painter working in neutrals now and disguising the dedication of his/her painting….and then we move to the winter….the winter of life and a memoir and waiting to join the loved one passed. This is absolutely beautiful. Don’t know if that’s how you meant it….but it rings that way for me. Perhaps because I’m in the final year of being a septuagenian and I like to think of it as still in the autumn of my years….not quite the winter yet.

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