sigh

sigh

hear the sigh
of autumn
from leaf
to last
cicada
down the
oak and elm
branch tip
to the root
in damp
a sigh
in pale
cloud even
the moon
cannot
save
from
tearing
within
its glow
the sigh
of old
pictures
where
faces are
cast as if
in crumbling
metal
a shine
that’s
flecked
a sigh
moving
in that
wave along
the heart’s
shore where
the mind
winds in
all manner
of painful
junk
a sigh
in the marching
shapes of
the dusk
islands
clouds
the sigh
of starling
flock
blown out
on a high
roll toward
the sea
sigh
of the
dusk
sigh
into the
dark
sigh that
wakes you
in dream
that breath
around the
stars just
before
dawn

march/april 2016

3 thoughts on “sigh”

  1. roll toward
    the sea
    sigh
    of the
    dusk
    sigh
    into the
    dark
    sigh that
    wakes you
    in dream
    that breath
    around the
    stars just
    before
    dawn

    Beautiful. Peter, I thought poetical autumns had been done to death. Apparently not. Love the way the poem picks up toward the end (the roll toward) – with the frequent repetition of Sigh – the star breath before dawn.

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