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.

4 comments:

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...

Excellent

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

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

eric1313 said...

The layers! My goodness.