Leaving Summer

a poem about the end of Summer, the emotion in the leaves.

Summer languishes in the sky,

Dried blue skin pulled taught

    and upheld by naked limbs that

    scratch and rasp

       up and down

    against the sky.

Angry, colored leaves

around the massive wrists of

elder boughs,

    crisping, whistling,

                 crackling

like an Autumn fire.

    yellow, golden, brown,

             RED

The leaves of Summer�"all dead,

hang in a punctuated chorus

     of stinging colors,

flung above my head.

Reviews

[Extant]

"Dried blue skin pulled taught
and upheld by naked limbs that
scratch and rasp"

Just that sole image of the sky and trees together, connected by something else we can't see with our human eyes, a mysticism.
Going on to describe the leaves coloured angry, around wrists. I have this image of the stereotypical teen slitting wrists, dancing near winter, but not quite there.
A tip; WritersCafe changes the hyphen to quotations, I haven't figured out how to fix that so I mostly leave hyphens out.

All in all I'm a bit biased since I love Autumn, I was born in September, I am named after Autumn. I don't doubt your talent, though.

[victoria]

oh my such wonderful imagery, don't you just love to dance in them too.

[James William Dyer]

they make comfortable cushioning.....when you fall.....

[.]

~ wow... stunning imagery... the expression...

"in a punctuated chorus
of stinging colors"

~ is to die for... i'm learning a lot of english from you... :)

[Ice QueenJen]

This reminds me of when I lived back east and how the leaves would change colors, you liken it to Autumn fire. That is what I used to think about how they were beautifully changing, although they were dying. You have a great way of grasping the beauty in Summer's fading away.

[Sami Khalil]

The leaves of Summer all dead
hang in punctuated chorus
of stinging colors...
Well penned...