Autumn

for Carl Sharpe

Autumn is a frozen church

We wait at heavy doors

That smell of rust,

Not a moon cold enough

To be called heartless

Or breathclouds of old steam

More an estuary of

Dumped mist afraid to ice;

The taste of wax on your lips;

A frame of hair round a

Hatted face, our steps as slow

As if we must tread water,

You are ice and rain and

The first crystals and even

More than this, beside me.

Reviews

[Zahra]

Autumn is a frozen church,what an interesting expression.
very well crafted.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Is this the same Carl Sharpe as on Verse Writes? His work is very similar but perhaps a little less precise than yours Leslie. As always, sublime in its well crafted, well described photographic metaphors.

[Jason Yang]

beautiful depiction of autumn

[Latifa]

reading this again gives me chills, the metaphor and the imagery in this poem is amazing.

[MsJewel]

I read this a few times and found different meanings - at first glance, you may be speaking of the season, at second perhaps a lost love - someone you have put upon a pedastal - "a frozen church" -
Beautifully written and a pleasure to read.

:) Julie

[leppero]

wonderful use of metaphor : Autumn is a frozen church, it's all very clever. great stuff

[Latifa]

this is soo beautiful, I love every single line

[Tate Morgan]

you have a fairly unique eye when it comes to observations of thew world around you

[Jimmy Yetts]

She appears to be, at least, one church at which you worship.
Stately, yet undeniably charming, Leslie
High-level work, my friend.

[Onyia-Ali, Kingsley Chu..]

This poem is metaphorical the way I see it. There is an implied metaphor of a woman who is as cool as Atumn. If 'Atumn is a froozen church' that woman must be godly, since chuch is a body where we raise godly women. Your last three lines struck me most. Well written.