Playing with the leaves, yellow and crimson and brown,
And the sun sparkles brightly....
A chill nips the air, and I think of my past.
Burning bonfires, eating marshmallows, cold starry nights.
Hiding, watching children or monsters (I can’t remember
which)
Walking by in search of candy – oh!
The terror that one of them might ring at our door!
Little games like these were so much fun!
I remember hiking in a wood,
I remember wearing shirts with awful pins.
I remember lost loves, distant memories,
The cold twinge of a barely remembered mist.
It’s times like these, when the ethereal blue sky
Pulls on your soul,
So that you think you might die from beauty,
Such a deep, deep blue that it breaks your heart.
I’ll never know what it is that makes me love the Fall.
It seems that every year, a part of me dies and I never get
it back.
Yet still, there’s something every year that keeps me in
love with Autumn.
It’s times like these that make you remember.
As I was reading Edna St. Vincent Millay, I realized a similarity between her poem and this poem that I wrote a couple of days ago. I knew that some of these ideas seemed familiar to me, and now I know why. Although I had forgotten these words, I now realize that they must have been at the back of my mind while I wrote this poem.
ReplyDelete"Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart - Lord, I do fear
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me, - let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call."
God's World
Edna St. Vincent Millay