ChatterBank7 mins ago
How Is This Poem So Far? Its Not Done Yet. Just Want To Know How It Reads Up To Now.
5 Answers
October. Summer's incessant bloom whittles on-
though in the pith of fall, leaves twitch red
through the eddy at eventide.
Once we sat short-sleeved in a river house, lolled
in thought of dreams thick with inspiration.
Inspiration I say, remembering a bloodening sun,
and creation breaking on the mind.
I missed you when you left to gather chrysanthemums,
each morning you'd float their painted tongues in a glass bowl.
There was love and art in saying: "I will be the Picasso of chrysanthemums!"
though in the pith of fall, leaves twitch red
through the eddy at eventide.
Once we sat short-sleeved in a river house, lolled
in thought of dreams thick with inspiration.
Inspiration I say, remembering a bloodening sun,
and creation breaking on the mind.
I missed you when you left to gather chrysanthemums,
each morning you'd float their painted tongues in a glass bowl.
There was love and art in saying: "I will be the Picasso of chrysanthemums!"
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