September Morning

Feeling a bit brevity-is-the-soul-of-wit today. (And it still feels like it should be 10 am; where did the morning go?) DVerse wanted a poem about autumn, and I just scribbled this one out. The other day they asked for a symbolic poem as well, which I think this could serve double duty for; the whole day-as-apple thing came out of remarking on the crispness of the air. It’s a pretty simple and straightforward piece; given the stuff that’s been filling my journal lately, that’s kind of a relief.

September Morning

I want to snap my teeth into today,
feel them
perforate the scarlet skin and get
into it. Dig down
right to the pentagram cathedral of
its core. The hours
fraying off blue tufts of perfect air
and dripping like cider
from the corners of the mouth;
the cyanide minutes
spit out like
so much minuscule treasure.

8 thoughts on “September Morning

  1. vivinfrance says:

    If that’s what dashing off a poem produced, I must get more of a wriggle on! Lovely imagery.

  2. barbara_ says:

    You might check, but I believe apples would have pentagrams in their cores.

  3. Viv: well, I say “dashing”, but for me, that usually means one hour instead of three. :)
    Barbara: you know me too well; I did indeed do some research, but not having any apples to cut open, I still am not sure. “Hexagram” has more of the sub-meaning (I Ching) that I was going for, I think, but I guess “pentagram” works just as well. I’ll change it.

  4. brian miller says:

    def fit both bills…interesting symbolism…really like your use of language as well cyanide moments…

  5. Mary says:

    Loved cyanide poments and so much more.

  6. Mary says:

    Yikes, I meant ‘cyanide moments,’ but couldn’t change it in my comment, as my comment disappeared into nothingness.

  7. Brian: thanks very much!
    Mary: I got it, no worries. ;)

  8. I agree with Mary: The “cyanide moments” an inspired phrase, def. There is a grit to your Autumn, a realness, so human… Amy

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