Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Autumnal Katabasis

When the balming winds blow through your open windows
in late September following a hazy rose colored sunset,
you forget how intensely the sun burned you
not thirty nights or a harvest moon ago.

Through it all -
the pain and the blindness
and the birth of new sight
after the blisters healed -
you have been judged to be clean.

You may pass peacefully 
into the beloved season 
of decay.


eric1313 said...

Note that the label "October" can be used on any poem that gives me a certain vibe I like the call "October".

Anonymous said...


Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Judgment will come in The Fall. Dying leaves Trump fresh snow.

eric1313 said...

The layers! My goodness.