Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Autumn- Streets of Gold

It's here- my favorite short-lived season.  Here's a poem I wrote when I first returned to Western New York after years of living in Spain.




Another Look at Happiness


 


 


Not the shock of orange leaves,


autum so bright it hurts,


Not your eyes tight on mine,


the stomach fall of your kiss.


 


Nor my country, Spain, distant


steeped in red wine and salt,


nor your Burma,


smell of woodsmoke and green,


when you close your eyes.


 


But this small space within


where solitude cushions


each fearless act.

No comments:

Post a Comment