Sunday, September 18, 2011

a brisk wind

There's a brisk October
wind sweeping the ochre
and rust farm fields today,
although the calendar
shows it's mid-September.
That late summer hazy
that had hung above us
for weeks now, warm
and comforting, takes up
with the blustery wind and
is migrating with the early
departures of waterfowl
and summer vacationers.
The fragrance of burning
fields, pungent but yet
somehow sweet-smelling, and
mildly memory-provoking,
charges the senses as it weaves
among the parched, plucked
corn stalks, while from a
distant corner of the field
an animated scarecrow,
clad in shredded polyester,
flags a ride with the wind.
It too seems to sense time
calls for it to move along.



Adelaide said...

Hi Warren,
Your poem could have been written here in upstate New York farm country where I live. Sunday was such a day.


Bill said...

That scarecrow image is a beauty.

Gillena Cox said...

nice, i like your stream of thought and the mood so well narrated

much love...

Warren said...

Hi Adelaide - Yes, there were several days here in Idaho that seemed like late autumn, and I love that feeling - provokes poetry and paintings. Thanks, kiddo.


Warren said...

Thanks for your read and your comments, Bill - the scarecrow is my favorite part of this verse - I think I need to rework other portions, however. Thanks!


Warren said...

Hi Gillena - Your thoughts are very much appreciated! You've made my day - thanks!


Susannah said...

What a wonderful and vivid picture your words have painted here! A real feast for the senses. Excellent writing Warren. I loved it. :-)

Warren said...

Hi Susannah - This is one of those poems I feel I brought out too soon, that it needs more work - but I do appreciate your words and coming from you I consider those words a high compliment.