It's just poetry, it won't bite

But When the Breeze, However


10.25.13 Posted in today's words by

Helen Losse has a new book of poetry due to release in 2014 by Main Street Rag.

But When the Breeze, However
By Helen Losse

The lonely wooden swing,
hung from a tree branch,
is thinking of children.

Come children, play in the fall,
in the fallen leaves. Do not desert me.

The tree is blazing
now that it is no longer summer.

Leaves of yellow, red, and orange
softly carpet the ground,
yet no fire burns. There is nothing
to hurt a child.

Oh, hurry, hurry. Don’t make me beg,

thinks the swing, who knows
honking geese have already
gathered near the pond one farm over.

Autumn days and childhood
get shorter all the while.

Accumulated snowfall
from the first wild winter storm
may be merely weeks away.

But when the breeze, however,
is gentle, inside the fence,
where you will be same, you can feel
the peace–if only for a moment–

in this world that no longer believes
its swings, trees, and children
are sacred.

 



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