Thursday, June 06, 2013

Poem #67: Bitter Hours

Bitter Hours

Today, autumn sprinkled 
her first bitter hours.
Summer's lingering green 
leaves drift on 
a chill wind
   —less than, 
      more than before
shifting restlessly until 
they are gone.

On this morning, 
the cool air tousled dryly 
amongst bare, 
rattling branches, 
and settled in heaps 
against the evenings 
to come.

Like a shawl, 
Winter’s stillness,
enfolds the dawn,
whispering of days
aching with airless brilliance.

© 2013, Hannah L. Six

Note: Another remix, this time from 2004


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