Poetry Sunday: Autumn Waiting

We're coming to the latter third of autumn. Some days we get a taste of winter. On other days, it seems like summer again. The season can't seem to make up its mind. It is waiting for something - a cold wind, perhaps? - to tip the balance.

Autumn Waiting 

by Tom Hennen

Cold wind.
The day is waiting for winter
Without a sound.
Everything is waiting—
Broken-down cars in the dead weeds.
The weeds themselves.
Even sunlight
Is in no hurry and stays
For a long time
On each cornstalk.
Blackbirds are silent
And sit in piles.
From a distance
They look like
Spilled on the road.


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