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Old Fall



When old Fall winters himself
Eagle-like, bold, and swiftly
Gliding, wings adrift,
The eyes ahead,
Something splinters inside me,
And vanishes like old Fall himself,
Replaced by the arrogance
Of Winter, unstoppably fixed,
Immutably stable,
Coating and covering
With a blanket of frosty rest
The thin, haggard, barren limbs—
Old Fall’s pretense is my own:
Calm and cunning, but never
More than a moment’s
Whisper, unspoken,
From the pallorous
Death that subdues his illusion—
We are broken, pulled
Crying, led away by the hand
Of a harsh governess,
From the dream
That we are more
Than a composite of breath and dust.

© Sean Taylor
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Submitted by seanhtaylor on May 20, 2021

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Sean Taylor

Sean Taylor writes short stories, novellas, novels, graphic novels and comic books (yes, Virginia, there is a difference between comic books and graphic novels, just like there's a difference between a short story and a novel). In his writing life, he has directed the “lives” of zombies, super heroes, goddesses, dominatrices, Bad Girls, pulp heroes, and yes, even frogs, for such diverse bosses as IDW Publishing, Gene Simmons, and The Oxygen Network. He also posts religious and political content from time to time. But not nearly as much as writing content. Between horror movies and cartoons, that is. Visit him online at www.thetaylorverse.com and www.badgirlsgoodguys.com (or follow his faith blog at www.filthyragsanddirtycups.blogspot.com). [He, Him] more…

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    "Old Fall" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 29 May 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/100478/old-fall>.

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