September Woes

September Woes

You pick up a homeless
word and weave
into a poem.

Suddenly it becomes
a dove, fluttering
in my heart.

I love them most,
the flying pods, carrying
unknown seeds.

White and red
I send you my summer
blues today.

The cottony cheeks
I blow the clean tears
away of a crying sky.

Reviews

[John Cardwell]

A beautiful poem. Your joy in writing is ever evident.

[Laz K.]

I like the metaphors, and the mood they create in this poem. Some people think "the blues" is something "bad" and is to be avoided. I'm not one of them; there's such beauty and a sort of pleasure in being able to see the beauty and the pain in the world all at once.