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Thursday, October 21, 2021

Autumn Landscape with Four Trees (Van Gogh), Sonnet #585











In September, 

                       the first leaves turn,

Then nothing seems 

                       to change for weeks.

Later the trees, 

                       dun or blazing,

Consent to the slow, 

                       ragged burn

Harsh air hard frost 

                       and hot sun wreaks.

The eye blinks and blinks, 

                       erasing.

Oh, how the soul takes it amiss —

Departing summer’s final kiss.



My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase at Amazon. Click here:

 

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