What is this he asks
me to do?
The last rose
has one startled view of
my face all at once
stiffened by the coming
frost. October
changes the way sun
slips across the stoop,
the rhetoric.
Twin blades of the
garden shears glint
in my hand.
Taken from the 1989 issue of The Wire harp.
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A lovely selection to start off with, Derek. Fitting for the season and well crafted. I like the poem's rhythm and the choice of line breaks. The imagery is startling and vivid.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fabulous thing you've started here. I look forward to seeing what you choose next.