i love the tannins of october,
how they shade air sepia
with the blandness of oak leaves
always the last to fall
and seeping beige into everything
the way my grandmother
dyed doilies in coffee or tea,
soaked just long enough to match the stain

mostly fallen now, leaves still cling to color
though now they move into yellows and browns,
the glowing reds and oranges
hissed out in the rain like the fire they mimic
and i still burn

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20 thoughts on “tannins

  1. Another outstanding poem. This was a real treat to read for its rich imagery and for the connection to grandmother’s doilies. How I remember my grandmother, crocheting with her arthritic fingers.

  2. I love November colour, where the earthbound world is measured on a brownscale. Remnant tall grasses, reeds, milkweeds, goldenrod, cattails, and in cultivated fields, even corn. So beautiful.

  3. lovely piece of painting! you present the changing season so visually – it strikes me that fall has something that draws out beautiful songs from deep within you! The gentle sheen of the moon creates a hunger to go for a nocturanl stroll (igbo proverb) – this is a bad translation of the proverb – Onwa gbama, ije aguma – when the moon starts to shine, the feet’s craving for strolling starts to grow.

    • Oh! Oh! I love the proverb. Everything has mostly fallen now, but yes–October/November used to bring out the strongest poetry, and thank you for saying you like the seasonal effect.

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