a spring poem in autumn

September owns ripe fruit urgency & color
but today I scent spring
in falling leaves, in spite of
the apples & concord grapes
on my table instead of strawberries

today something inside stretches & blooms
in response to sun, rebellious
& adamantly out of season

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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21 Responses to a spring poem in autumn

  1. davidtrudel says:

    Poems as good as this are always in season!

  2. Ah, how wonderful to ‘scent spring’ in September ~ beautiful Susan :)

  3. BroadBlogs says:

    Ah, the times between.

  4. unfetteredbs says:

    essence perfectly captured….

  5. nelle says:

    Reversed seasons… grapes remind me of Napa, how I wish to be there now, exploring. It’s been too long. :(

  6. I like this one..the feeling :-)

  7. jomul7 says:

    that last stanza left me wondering because you write “something” and not “someone”. I like the mystery it leaves though!

  8. I appreciate how a sudden burst of warmth after a bout of cold, or certain scents and tastes can do this to you. I like the image of the fruit on your table as you write, as though it is passing on to you its memory and what first gave it life as it prepares to pass into you bodily too.

  9. Rhonda says:

    the apples & concord grapes
    on my table instead of strawberries

    love this image. beautiful

  10. I love your season poems. Though I don’t experience the seasons over here, I can almost feel part of it just be your wonderful and vivid descriptions. Well done. :-)

    • Thanks, Celestine. I do so love 3 of the 4 seasons we get–they can keep the snow, IMHO ;)

      However, if I get to walk through falling leaves, I guess snow is a fairly decent tradeoff for the privilege.

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