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Autumn Reversed
Once snowflakes have recrystalized,
__they rise from where they fell;
in Earth’s alternate universe
__it’s early winter’s knell.
The frost unfreezes, rain unfalls,
__leaves littering the ground
ascend into the naked trees
__and soon become unbrowned.
As acorns torn from squirrels’ paws
__unripen in the boughs
of oaks de-ageing, dairy maids
__unmilk the oom-ing cows.
Then crops befall de-harvesting
__and rainclouds back away,
late summer’s sun says, “Howdy, folks!”
__and blue skies follow grey.
.
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Paul A. Freeman is the author of Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel which was taught in Zimbabwean high schools and has been translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul is the author of hundreds of published short stories, poems and articles.
“of oaks de-ageing, dairy maids
__unmilk the oom-ing cows.”
Love those lines! Nice paring of sound and sense.
Personally, I love Autumn – but I can think of other seasonal reverses I might write about!
Glad you enjoyed the poem, Jeremiah. Back in the day I recall how horrible late autumn could be in England with its greyness and frosts, trudging to school and thought I’d rewind back to the nostalgia of the seemingly eternal blue skies of the summer holidays.
I am delighted with the idea of an autumn rewind. Clever ideas, sparkling images, very effective, amusing, and creative word choice. Thanks for this poem, Mr. Freeman.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Glad you liked the poem, TM.
Interesting concept that tantalizes the sense. Very well written and rhymed.
Thanks, Roy. Autumn’s a difficult subject to write something new about. I feel sorry for the poor squirrels.
Paul, I thoroughly enjoyed this unique and clever poem. The conceit you, er, conceived is brilliant! And quite cinematic as we figuratively play Autumn’s tape backwards. A special shout-out for those cows that “oom.”
Yep. In spite of myself, I always giggle at those ‘ooming cows’.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Brian.
While nearly everyone wants blue skies to follow grey, you, Paul, propose a unique imaginative scenario to achieve that. It pokes fun at complainers who might not like autumn itself, and more subtly, at those who prefer an “alternate universe” to the reality of this earth. The autumnal film projected backward strikes the ordinary reader with prospects at once delightful and difficult to comprehend in an orderly way. The “dairy maids” in the picture, though, give a reassuring hint that this poem is pastoral fiction.
There’s a memorable scene in the book Slaughter House 5 when the MC’s powers of controlling time suffer a glitch and a documentary showing production of a WW2 bomb all the way to blowing up its target runs in reverse. I hoped to achieve something like the feel of this classic scene – but more pastoral, as you noted, Margaret.
I’m in complete awe of this concept! Beautifully presented, much like a video in reverse! Thanks for the read, Mr. Freeman.
Happy to have awed you. Shamik. Thanks for reading and commenting.
You make it seem easy to write such a poem Mr Freeman.
Personally I would be in favour of a bit of de-aging.
Thank you for a fun read.
I’ll be first in line for the de-aging!
Thanks for reading and commenting, Maria.
Paul, I love everything about this poem. As a huge fan of this season, I have tried to honour it in words of poetry many times, but never from such an engaging angle. Thank you and very well done indeed!
Thanks for reading and commenting, Susan. I caught the beginning of autumn this year before heading back to the Sahara, and wished I could rewind to summer!
Very interesting concept, and well-executed; I love the idea of unmilking the ooming cows. It reminds me of a science-fiction story I read in which time went backwards, where people’s lives started when they came back to life in their graves and ended when they were un-conceived (Counter-Clock World by Philip K. Dick, based on his short story “Your Appointment Will Be Yesterday”).
Still, I think we already have autumn in reverse. It’s called “spring.” It’s just that the leaves don’t turn red, orange, or yellow on their way to being green.
I’m sure Mother Nature won’t be offended, Joshua.
Thanks for reading and commenting.