Snapshot 18 August 02004

The year has entered its change,
sizzling one day, chilled the next.
Even the goldfish feel it, madly

spawning one last time, leaping
out of their world into mine.
The neighbors' house goes up,

power tools in the afternoon,
hammers and saws and bare-
chested men.  The close-mown

fields bloom with footballers,
bright and loud; red pants, white
jerseys, vivid yellow helmets.

All this to say that even
in autumn there is lust,
there is love.

                

Comments

[Cathy]

The year has entered its change,
sizzling one day, chilled the next.
Even the goldfish feel it, madly

Hmm my area has gone back to summer.(Yuck)Thoughly a great poem. last stanza took me be surprise. Great one.

[Dave]

Almost anyone can manage surprise. What's difficult is making the surprise seem also natural, following a sort of meta-logic, as you do here. Well done.
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