.
When summer left and took her warming shawl,
The birds towards the south began to fly.
The leaves of wizened trees began to dye,
As shorter days announced the hues of fall.
In town, there is the snore of one at rest;
His lawn, pristinely kept, begins to sleep.
He then arises, seeking sod to reap,
Before the rage of winter is expressed.
But there across the street a lawn, not kept,
Is dressed with nutsedge weed and carpet grass.
The drizzly morning sees the mower pass,
And one misty-eyed dandelion wept.
.
.
Angel L. Villanueva is a religious man who resides in Massachusetts
I really enjoyed this poem. The imagery is excellent. Extra points for the clever use of ‘dye’ and late summer’s ‘shawl’.
I did feel a couple of the lines were a little clunky to my ear and might scan better as ‘Towards the south the birds began to fly.’ and ‘And misty-eyed, a dandelion wept.’
Thanks for the read, Angel.
I also like the play of “dye” – the leaves die, but also change color; the image of “nutsedge weed and carpet grass” is also nice. I found the last line a little flat, and is improved with Paul’s suggestion. Keep writing, Angel!
This vignette, Angel, is a lovely and truthful glimpse into the paradox of decay and rebirth. Adding even one other word to it would have diminished it. Unlike many other authors, you seem to know when the poem is complete. Further embellishment would only be like pissing in the soup.