Saturday, September 27, 2008

Indian Summer






What is this Red Man's tale,
this Indian Summer dream.
Times when first frosts
have seized the moment
changing green, lush horizons
to golden hues of lost relevance...
publishing an Autumnal Renaissance,
a revival
of what will soon be only a warm whisper
surrounding our cocoons~
warm hearths,
warm memory faded,
we prepare for the long season
locked away from the dread,
winter's dry, certain death.
Oh, Indian Summer...
give me one last warm breath
one last ray
one last memory
before I sleep,
locked in silent, frigid beauty
of steely blue
and white
and grey...
winter.

7 comments:

Gypsy at heart said...

Your poetry? Love it!
Nice photos accompanying.
Gifted post....

http://wanderingwonderinggypsy.blogspot.com/

kathy said...

I so love all your pictures and poems , Of course your antiques are too die for -- can ya get some of that wonderful black furniture in a flat mailing package to Georgia please ! lol -- Can't wait to see the jewelry you create -- will be original and beautiful
Kathy - GA

Greyscale Territory said...

Your Indian Summer dream lives very poetically forever within you! Always!

Thank you for your comment on my blog! I have just this coming week of school holidays to finish my gift to you! Nothing like deadlines to get me going! I am on course, exactly half way through! It's happening!

High Desert Diva said...

This might be my favorite yet!

Just lovely...

Alice W. said...

Beautiful photos and poem....

Bobbi said...

So lovely...is that your very own poem? And your shadow shot from last week, mmmmmm...made me want to take a nap.

white o'morn cottage said...

I love this poem!