A Poem by Leslie Philibert

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.

© 2014 Leslie Philibert

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Truly beautiful piece you've written here.
"More an estuary of
Dumped mist afraid to ice;
The taste of wax on your lips;"
I found this excerpt particularly moving.

Posted 3 Years Ago

Reading this poem was a very vivid and beautiful experience of the season.

Posted 3 Years Ago

Excellent description of the season and makes it welcome and inviting. I've never heard it so described and grateful that I have now.

Posted 3 Years Ago

This makes me long for the approaching spring and warmth. Valentine

Posted 3 Years Ago

The best I have read in this mad place yet, your closing triplet quite the gem, very good I say, Bren

Posted 3 Years Ago

Your imagery paints a very lonely and longing picture. Going through all the the things they've always shared, but the narrator finds s/he is going through them alone rather than with the persona at his/her side. It's so very sad when that emotional chasm leaves people dangling on the ice-bound precipice.

Posted 3 Years Ago

Evocative of much more than autumnal wet and chill, Les....more to do with a cooling, I suspect. This wistful piece is powerfully and thoughtfully crafted. P.

Posted 3 Years Ago

Very strong natural images, it was a pleasure to read, it has its own flow :) Great job !

Posted 3 Years Ago

It's good to read one of your works again upon feeling better. I enjoyed this poem, it holds strong imagery penned creatively cool. An excellent write.

Eric Cox
(Formerly Spectre.)

Posted 3 Years Ago

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50 Reviews
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on September 28, 2014
Last Updated on September 28, 2014


Leslie Philibert
Leslie Philibert

Bavaria, Germany

I`m not important. I just want to write a couple of good poems. Just read what I write. That`s enough. more..


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