On city streets, rough winds fly
snapping trees, bruising branches
while final fruits are coaxed to roundness
tender with summer’s sweetness,
a promise of thanks and giving both,
a slow subsiding of this year’s troubles.
snapping trees, bruising branches
while final fruits are coaxed to roundness
tender with summer’s sweetness,
a promise of thanks and giving both,
a slow subsiding of this year’s troubles.
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: Happy Halloween! This is a poem inspired by Ranier Maria Rilke’s Day in Autumn. A tree fell onto my husband’s car, but it backed out from under it without a scratch. It’s a year of worries, miracles and loyalty. May you find your own magic as the year dwindles.
10 thoughts on “Rough Winds Fly”
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Friendly Fairy Tales 
I’m glad your husband is okay and I’m all in for the last line of your poem
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Thanks! Eternal optimism here, too. 🙂
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Happy Halloween Brenda & hopes for a peaceful year! 👻👻🦇🦇🎃🎃👾👾
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Likewise. Let’s hope for peace over profit.
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Thank goodness your husband is OK!
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Very true. Thanks!
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May the troubles subside
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Yes, please. 🙂
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