Suffering’s a blessing,
Waves caressing shore,
Sand absorbing moisture,
Turning hearts once more.
I’d quiver uselessly with fear
But autumn weather’s very nice.
Let this fall come settle here.
I’ll hold off worrying of ice.
White stuff that the winter brings
May bury me in frigid snows,
But not today. Autumn sings
Final songs before it goes.
Linked to dVerse Quadrille. De Jackson is hosting with the word “quiver”.
Today darkness seems square like an evergreen against a maple in fall and brightness looks circular like a flower’s bloom. I may see them differently tomorrow, but they blend together cosmically like joyful austerity, like getting unexpected things right, like warm and cold.
This past week the weather has shown how awesome autumn can feel, fitting itself in between summer and winter. It made me smile. The weather got it right.
Leaves are turning red in fall.
Watch the geese go somewhere new.
With a conscience true may all
Of winter’s sorrows not turn you.
Linked to dVerse Open Link Night. Lillian is hosting.
The thought of being here at all must be
The source of unexpected majesty
That leads us, should we look, upon the way
And turns the night with brightness into day.
Linked to dVerse Poetics. Amaya is hosting with the theme of majestic.
The 40 degree weather didn’t stop locals and non-locals, all of us indigenous to this planet, from running, or cheering on the runners, in the Chicago Marathon.
Admittedly there is something odd about 45 thousand members of an indigenous species voluntarily running 26.2 miles and even keeping track – to the second – of records such as the 2:14.04 top time set by Kenyan’s Brigid Kosgei for women runners. I can imagine aliens from another planet, ready to invade, having second thoughts because of that, but if these marathons help keep out those non-indigenous species I’m all in favor of them.
The photo I took was from the very last mile at the very end of the race going up Michigan Avenue. The top winners had finished hours ago. If I were a runner and I got that far, which is questionable, that’s where I’d be. About midway under the Chinatown arch what made me smile was a sign that read, “Hurry up and finish, your mom’s freezing out here”.
Run past Chinatown
in windy Chicago weather
back home to Grant Park
Inside the oak it’s rich with rings,
Ringing without sound.
Richly rests this oak that clings
Still soundlessly on ground.
The poem illustrates the figure of speech known as a polyptoton where a root word is repeated but not exactly such as “rings” and “ringing” or “rich” and “richly” or “sound” and “soundlessly”. I will be featuring polyptoton on dVerse on October 24th.