Autumn

Hello Everyone!

I hope your September has been well. Classes have been keeping me busy, and I’ve been writing a lot of poetry for my English classes, which is absolutely lovely.

leaves on lawn
I’ve never really thought of myself as a poet, always more of a novelist or short story writer. And those are still my favorite forms.

But lately I am finding that a poem is elegant, eloquent, a little trinket of thought to put away or give away.

So, in the spirit of Autumn, which every year I realize to be my favorite season, I offer you:

Endings

 

Summer must end, you know.

The green that carpets

the earth must fade,

and the leaves 

must fall

down.

 

Dry, brown, scutt’ling about,

bunched in heaps like trash,

crunching, crackling,

twisted dry

dying

leaves.

 

The sky must lose its hue,

grow washed of color,

melt into gray, 

until it

looks so

cold.

 

The air must become ice,

cold and creeping up

like fear or fright,

like dread or

like death.

Ice.

 

The flowers must fall, and

the grass must dry out,

the creatures must 

hide away

or go

South.

 

The rains must come quickly,

drowning the world in

cold, wet, flood of

misery,

frozen.

Wet.

 

The colors of the world

must die like a star,

Bright. Brill’iant. Blast.

Then black, white,

no shade,

bland.

 

Summer must end, you know.

It must even die. 

How then, tell me,

can it be

lovely,

death?

 

Thanks for reading!

Hannah

(Poem by Hannah Allman. Photography by Hannah Allman.)

Published by Hannah Kennedy

Hannah is an old lady at heart, with a deep love of yarn and floral patterns. She has curly hair, she is a lefty, she googles everything, and her favorite color is blue. She can usually be found reading everything from nineteenth-century fiction to modern psychology, doing yoga, dragging out chores to fit the podcast she's listening to, or watching The Office with her husband.

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