Bitter breeze

Bitter Breeze photo

A bitter
breeze
sharpens
pointed
maple
leaves,
throwing 
them down
one by one 
like ninja
stars,
silently
sticking
their
target,
the ground 
now blood red.

About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
This entry was posted in Nature, Photography, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Bitter breeze

  1. suzjones says:

    I love the visual imagery that this poem invokes 🙂

    • Thank you kindly, my friend! All this time, I’d been using shooting stars to depict maple leaves in autumn, when what I really meant was ninja stars! They are so stealthy when they fall, five sharp points spinning earthward, embedding their edges into the ground, bleeding forth crimson. Autumn is so inspiring to me (probably b/c it’s one of my favorite seasons!). I hope you have a wonderful day 🙂
      Cheers,
      Tyler

  2. Gallivanta says:

    Autumn is sounding vicious today 😉

    • Haha! Yes, the bitter chill of fall is upon us. We’ve had our first encounter with freezing temperatures, and as a result, our garden has been put to bed, as it were. Fortunately, we picked most of our vegetables, so nothing was lost to frost damage. Glad you enjoyed my poem. Have a wonderful day, my friend!
      Cheers,
      Tyler

  3. Reblogged this on The ancient eavesdropper and commented:

    I’m re-blogging this recent poem with a new photo of a beautiful, blood red maple, donating its oxygen (& inspiration) for my brain to function. Enjoy!

  4. words4jp says:

    We have had a lot of bitter breezes lately in Chicagoland. 😉

  5. phillymanjim says:

    Tyler, the photo brings to me the vision of the beauty of fall, past present and future. The poem captures the sadder side, with bitter winds and leaves falling creating a blood red carpet. The cycle of all four seasons bring variations of the recurring themes of Summer (gentle, lazy,warm); Fall (gentle and vivid changes until it hits the point of no return, when I feel “Winter Closing In” from an old Joni Mitchell song called something like “I get the urge for Going): (the winter, with the alternate beauty of blue skys and white snow, as well as the desolation of grey skies and bare trees); (Early spring with intermittent bursts of winter but also with the promise of renewal, later spring where flowers burst out of the soil and other sleeping plants and animals awaken)

    Jim

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