Prey / George J. Dance

Prey

"Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?"
Silence, followed by a click and hum.
Slamming down, her lower arm goes numb.
She has to get outside; she needs some air.

The leaden sky leaks. Trees are gaunt and bare.
She walks – then runs – but every street has some
Eyes fondling her legs, her breasts, her bum, 

And running filthy glances through her hair.

She's reached her block now – finally she nears
Her home, runs up the walk – inside once more,
Panting, trying to calm her breath and fears.

She's sure that bedroom door was closed before,
And weren't the lights on? What's that noise she hears?
How could she forget to lock the door?

~~
George J. Dance, 2007

from Logos, and other logoi, 2021

[All rights reserved - used with permission]

George J. Dance biography

October / Folgore da San Geminiano

from Of the Months

October

Next, for October, to some shelter'd coign
    Flouting the winds I'll hope to find you slunk:
    Though in bird-shooting (lest all sport be sunk),
Your foot still press the turf, the horse your groin.
At night with sweethearts in the dance you'll join,
    And drink the blessed must, and get quite drunk.
    There's no such life for any human trunk;
And that's a truth that rings like golden coin!
Then, out of bed again when morning's come,
    Let your hands drench your face refreshingly,
        And take your physic roast, with flask and knife.
Sounder and snugger you shall feel at home
    Than lake-fish, river-fish, or fish at sea,
        Inheriting the cream of Christian life.

~~
Folgore da San Geminiano (?1270-1332?)
translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882)
from The Early Italian Poets, 1861

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

[November]

Folgore da San Geminiano biography
Dante Gabriel Rossetti biography

Relief of a medieval scene of three couples dancing. Wikimedia Commons.

Leaf-Fall in October / John Freeman

Leaf-Fall in October

O falling leaves,
O'er you compassionate tender-fingered eves
Draw a white mist for shroud, O falling leaves!

The poignant thrush
Singeth your fall, while careless footsteps crush
And pass unheeding you, wind-stricken leaves;

And from the sky
Sun, moon, and stars look on indifferently,
As you had never lived, O dying leaves!

A teasing wind
Rattles among the branches hourly-thinned,
Driving a fugitive army of you, wild leaves;

And no more now
Shall you like jewels hang on every bough
In th' bright dew-nourished morn, O pallid leaves

But the wise Earth,
In whom all present death is promised birth,
Takes you — and us who fall like you, O leaves!

~~
John Freeman (1880-1929)
from Twenty Poems, 1909

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

John Freeman biography

John Fowler, Falling Leaves, 2012. CC BY 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.

Coats / JD Shirk

Coats

I have worn so many coats
Always changing through the years
Some fit very well and warm
Giving comfort for a time
Other ones, threadbare and cold

Woven with such brittle fibers
From the mills of want and angst,
Pockets torn
With holes and tattered
Where fortunes and good will
Must have surely fallen through

I outgrew some, along the way,
Left them lying there
Pockets full of naive trust,
For those with childlike faith
Who wore each one with beauty,
In traditions of their creeds

I wore a coat of innocence,
In a place so long ago,
Where angels held their guard
Where ice cold rain fell hard
Into gentle summer nights

I wear a coat these days
A perfect fit and trim
A patchwork stitched
Of faded cloth, stained and ripped
From passing years
The pockets filled
With golden Hope, sweet
Memories and tears

~~
JD Shirk, 2023

JD Shirk Poetry

[All rights reserved - used with permission]

JD Shirk biography

Roman Harald, Redhead, 2014. CC BY-NC-ND, Flickr Commons

October / Tom MacInnes

October

When I was a little fellow, long ago,
    The season of all seasons seemed to me
    The Summer's afterglow and fantasy —
The red October of Ontario:
To ramble unrestrain'd where maples grow
    Thick-set with butternut and hickory,
    And be the while companion'd airily
By elfin things a child alone may know!

And how with mugs of cider, sweet and mellow,
    And block and hammer for the gather'd store
    Of toothsome nuts, we'd lie around before
The fire at nights, and hear the old folks tell o'
    Red Indians and bears, and the Yankee war —
Long ago, when I was a little fellow!

~~
Tom MacInnes (1867-1951)
from In Amber Lands, 1910

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Tom MacInnes biography

Robert Berdan, Oxtongue River, Ontario, Canada, in autumn (detail).

CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.

Suspending Winter Willingly in Disbelief / Cathleen Harvea Guthrie

 

Suspending Winter Willingly in Disbelief

Spring whistled a happy tune ... summer sang.
    Autumn's song being sung and winter's song
    Yet to come ... a cold hard song ... far too long, 
Winter's known song ... a frosty frigid ... pang!

The end of summer comes in disbelief:
    Autumnal apples fall far from the trees;
    Sweet honey stolen from the honeybees;
Luscious fruit with sweetness lends some relief.

The gifts of spring and summer ... love bestowed.
    Gratitude for the fruits of the season –
    Gratitude for plentiful pleasing reason.
From the summer season much bounty flowed.

Seen on display, the farmer's market showed
    The fresh fruits of love's organic labor.
    A just picked garden carrot ... to savor!
To buy artisanal produce much is owed.

Spring whistled a happy tune ... summer sang.
    Autumn's song being sung and winter's song
    Yet to come ... a cold hard song ... far too long,
Winter's known song ... a frosty frigid ... pang!

Cold hard fact:
    As fleeting pleasures fade in disbelief ...
    Suspension of disbelief assuages grief.

~~
Cathleen Harvea Guthrie, 2025 

from #autumnalpoemsbycathleenharveaguthrie 

[All rights reserved - used with permission]

Jean-François Millet (1814–1875), Apple Gatherers, ca, 1859. Wikimedia Commons.

Autumn / Richard Chenevix Trench

from The Seasons

Autumn

Thine, autumn, is unwelcome lore,
To tell the world its pomp is o'er.

To whisper in the rose's ear
That all her beauty is no more;

And bid her own the faith how vain,
Which spring to her so lately swore.

 
A queen deposed, she quits her state;
The nightingales her fall deplore.

The hundred-voiced bird may woo
The thousand-leaved flower no more.

The jasmine sinks its head in shame,
The sharp east wind its tresses tore,

And robbed in passing cruelly
The tulip of the crown it wore.

The lily's sword is broken now,
That was so bright and keen before;

And not a blast can blow, but strews
With leaf of gold the earth's dank floor,

The piping winds sing Nature's dirge,
As through the forest bleak they roar,

Whose leafy screen, like locks of eld,
Each day shows scantier than before.

Thou fadest as a flower, O man!
Of food for musing here is store.

O man, thou fallest as a leaf!
Pace thoughtfully earth's leafstrewn floor;

Welcome the sadness of the time,
And lay to heart this natural lore.

~~

Richard Chenevix Trench (1807-1866)
from Poems, 1865

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Richard Chenevix Trench biography

"The Seasons" by Trench, read by Sonia for LibriVox. Courtesy Rhodoclassics.

("Autumn" begins at 4:15.)