calling on autumn

orange night

knocks brain sideways

its ever shifting words

calling on autumn

standing on winged leaf

she presses control key

views bottom menu

makes a selection

then enters

a 300-foot hill is not a mountain

 

by mary ann blinkhorn

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25 thoughts on “calling on autumn

  1. It’s a mountain when you have asthma and high blood pressure and your knees are shot.

  2. granbee says:

    Mary Ann, this is exactly how each of should enter the autumn times of our lives and our creative endeavors, welcoming the burnishing colors and the crisping dawns of new lives and loves and creativity.

  3. ManicDdaily says:

    intriguing, humorous, virtual (and virtuous!) poem. Ha. k .

  4. Wonderful Jack. The way you juxtapose varied thoughts on a contrasting theme is magical.

  5. Sorry Ann. I thought you were Jack Brewis. No matter, my comments remain the same.

  6. I agree with Carl on the hill/mountain…and your poem is fantastic…

  7. A 300 foot hill, is a 300 foot hill. On the other hand, those 3 inch piles in the litter box are mountains.

  8. Anthony says:

    I hate Autumn, everything is so dead. Here in S.A, we are in spring time now.

  9. Kris Kennedy says:

    cool juxtaposition – love the train of thought.

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