Strike of match
leaf departing tree
fall of flint and ash
sizzling flags set free.
Skittering bones, we
trudge the season’s catacombs.
Woods exchange blows
their yellowing begins
but before branches thin
winds lift a finger, referee,
points our focus
to the cackling within.
© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved
Artwork: Melanie Daniel, Still Falling 4 U (2021)
d’Verse’s Monday Quadrille: Ashes to Ashes asks us to write a 44 word poem using the word ash. Join us.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Excuse me while i-
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INTERACT
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Sweet, my first blog explosion, and I am so pleased. Thank you very kindly, Danny.
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A great poem. Is the painting your work? The fires that burn seem to be happening year after year! Very sad to see happening
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Thank you kindly, Dwight. Yes, these fires seem to be changing so much, and yet we continue on in the same ways. No, the artwork is by Melanie Daniel, Still Falling 4 U (2021). Just checking now to make sure I left a link to her gallery in the comments. I saw her artwork recently. Breathtaking.
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You are welcome! Very nice work on both counts.
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Thanks, Dwight. Please view her gallery if you have time. Much to enjoy.
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I will!
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Very nice!
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“we
trudge the season’s catacombs.”
Luv that line.
Thanks for dropping by to read mine
Much💜love
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My pleasure. I also love that line. Many thanks.
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I like the layers here – and the different point of view – both as witness to these events, as well as the shift – the idea of the wind being a referee after the woods exchange blows, and begin yellow bruising – the particular way you’ve phrased it is really exquisite – definitely fresh and imaginative – lovely quadrille!
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Thank you kindly, WildChild. Actually composed quite a bit of this walking the woods near our home this evening. Just jotted down all that came to me and let it simmer down a bit. So glad you enjoyed it.
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it’s very rich and for a “jumble” of thoughts gathered, you’ve carefully crafted, resulting in something very wonderful – cheers!
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It feels like autumn forests and the leaves changing colors and falling but there is a subtext of a struggle as well. It’s a pleasant mix of images, and I also like the image you chose. Will check out the link for more of the artist’s works.
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Thank you very much, Lisa. Each fall has a different flavor for me, and I’m liking this years slow burn very much.
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You’re welcome.
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We care.
This poem is relatable. So touching. And the video and music. Wonderful collab you leave us with. So lovely. Thanks for sharing.
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Thank you kindly, Selma. The video spring to mind yesterday evening, and the artist is seen recently in gallery. Im so glad you liked this trio together.
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Totally cool trio. 👏
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Thank you. ☺️
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This is autumn right on the edge of winter – the violence of leaf-loss, the proximity of the crone. it’s getting dark out there, and those leaves are the last flags of the light. Such an atmospheric write. Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you kindly for hosting, Sarah. I really enjoyed the prompt and the wide variety of quadrilles created. A few more to read this afternoon.
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Brilliant and unique. Loved it.
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Thank you kindly, Tom. Took time to listen yesterday. It was lovely here.
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Fantastic:
This poem just flowed, KH!
❤
David
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Many thanks, David. I realize that just going out and being present is often the best inspiration available.
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Another darkly prophetic poem. I love the scattered rhymes, amost like sparks and flames shooting.
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Thank you kindly, Jane. Lots of wind here yesterday and I could hear this smoldering above in the canopy.
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It’s that time of year…
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I love the sense of life in change here, of activity and also of letting go as trees do, to meet the latest factor. I especially like the last two lines of the first stanza–sums the season up in a nutshell–or a skittering leaf.
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This is a perfect autumn poem–the blaze of fire-colors, the wind, the catacombs.
I like the mix of beauty and darkness, which describes this time of year so well.
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You evoke a perfectly spooky atmosphere, perfect for the season!
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Great piece! Loved this line, “Skittering bones, we trudge the season’s catacombs” so descriptive and that bit of rhyme is so natural. 💗
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I love these lines, K.
“Skittering bones, we
trudge the season’s catacombs.” So beautifully done and a great complement to the art.
pax,
dora
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I love the sense of movement here… sometimes autumn seems so passive, but you have captured the struggle, with your active words. It reminds me of Dylan Tomas, and not go gently…
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So kind, and thank you, Björn. I am most in my element in the fall. Always find the smells and sights to be most appealing to my muse. Love Dylan, will be much bolstered by comparison. Cheers!
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“Woods exchange blows their yellowing begins but before branches thin winds lift a finger,”.. This is absolutely stunning! You have portrayed Autumn and the transition that it brings along with it so well! 💝💝
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Stunning autumn poem filled with movements and striking images. Love this part best:
winds lift a finger, referee,
points our focus
to the cackling within.
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Many thanks, Grace. It was so windy the tree’s lifted up a frond like a finger. Seemed to be saying just that.
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You had me at the very first line. Wonderful!
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