Not A Poem About Fall
Posted: 10 Oct 2021, 06:45
I will not write a poem about fall,
the mundane sameness of red,
yellow, brown, how the wind drives
them on dry days like refugees
across my lawn, seeking the peace,
promise of a new start in a new land.
Sometimes it dashes them, the wind,
against sidewalk and windowpane.
Others give their bodies to be burned
and I've seen them dance around the altar
of an old pine stump in my yard
Fall is unbeautiful at the border and
It's 106 in late afternoon. There is
no curbside pick up with Truck Vacs
and it's six weeks in a holding cage.
At least there's a blanket and food
where you can sleep for the first time
in months without fear of having your
throat slit or your children taken and
your home burned or the Guardia shooting.
There's clean water and if that's as good
as it is, let the next guy do a poem about autumn.
the mundane sameness of red,
yellow, brown, how the wind drives
them on dry days like refugees
across my lawn, seeking the peace,
promise of a new start in a new land.
Sometimes it dashes them, the wind,
against sidewalk and windowpane.
Others give their bodies to be burned
and I've seen them dance around the altar
of an old pine stump in my yard
Fall is unbeautiful at the border and
It's 106 in late afternoon. There is
no curbside pick up with Truck Vacs
and it's six weeks in a holding cage.
At least there's a blanket and food
where you can sleep for the first time
in months without fear of having your
throat slit or your children taken and
your home burned or the Guardia shooting.
There's clean water and if that's as good
as it is, let the next guy do a poem about autumn.