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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I love how you compared Autumn to a frozen church! I really enjoyed reading this poem of yours. It flows well and is beautifully well written!

Posted 6 Years Ago

As deep and as layered a a candle flame reflected in old coloured silk. Remarkable is insufficient.

Posted 6 Years Ago

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 6 Years Ago

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

Posted 6 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 6 Years Ago

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

Posted 6 Years Ago

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

Posted 6 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 6 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 6 Years Ago

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52 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..

End End

A Poem by Leslie Philibert

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