Open the front door
then the screen.
The sumac burns with October fire –
flaming vermilion. Banked oranges
spark the misty rectangle.
They glow against
a faded hedging, a green and straw lawn.
Outside, it is chill.
My insides are cinders, yet
the front door is a bellows
that fans my ashen heart
into life.
GM, October, 2008
how to survive suburban life 
October 26, 2008 at 11:57 am |
I love the image of passing through the door being a bellows!
October 26, 2008 at 7:19 pm |
I can feel the cold in this poem as well as the brilliant saturated color. Ashen heart and bellowing door, that’s a tension that speaks loudly to me.
October 29, 2008 at 2:27 am |
i love it when you treat us to a poem. This one has the passion of the season, the thrill of the color, and the inner thrill of what the scene means to the narrator. Well done, G.
October 29, 2008 at 2:03 pm |
doors and the changing colors of the seasons. it feels like its all about transitions and passion. nice.
October 29, 2008 at 2:34 pm |
Exquisite! Love to you!
October 29, 2008 at 7:26 pm |
A visual artist’s poem, inside and out, vermilion and cinders.
November 2, 2008 at 5:41 pm |
game for nanowrimo buddies, nov1-30?
November 18, 2008 at 2:28 am |
I, too, enjoy the imagery here. Sumac, oranges, rectangle, hedge, bellows — all comprise such a visual treat to the mind. 😉 Cheers.
November 19, 2008 at 1:33 am |
I must apologize to all of you for thanking you late for your kind comments. November has been a wipeout for me – bad sinus infection recurring, am on my fourth week now and frankly very fed up with the whole shebang.
This week, it’s as if winter has nodded around the corner – all the leaves have fallen. It always catches me and leaves me disbelieving, this passage. So now it’s time to hunker down for the Solstice. G
November 10, 2012 at 1:51 pm |
can taste the stuff as I read. Beautifully written.