- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Petals
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Cold and the sullen wind sneezed.
Hardly awake yet, the ground lay
white with the trees wealth.
You could easily scoop up
a heap of petals if it weren't
such a hackneyed image:
on our altars even the flowers are
art, not a profuse abandon, not
like the fragrant abundance
wilting in the hot, hot sun -
The soil wouldn't mind. It would
not question, but accept, and smile.
- COMMENTS
DawnJover 11 years ago...of Fall. And you show the contrast between a ritualistic concern with artificial beauty and the natural order, where beauty is renewable, and more precious for being so. Lovely!
tazz317over 11 years agois not caused by frost....sometimes it is just their time, TK U MLJ LV NV
Desejoover 11 years agoIt's cold, but there are flowers. White flowers. That fall from trees.
Then it's hot. The wind sneezes. The soil smiles. I can't put it all together in a way that makes sense to me, as well written as it is.
