Season of Crumble
In the palm of eyes
and the ear of skin
days darken before
they even begin.
The sky bleeds crows
in drops of black ink,
leaves rise on the fall,
wither and shrink.
Neither here nor there
mist laces bare limbs
with droplets of dew,
whispers, and whims.
In the season of crumble
the hours grow short,
shadows grow longer,
and wicked holds court.
Beware of what you hear,
be careful where you go.
Witch and winter plot
in sable and drifting snow.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
I love the sky bleeding crows in drops of black ink.
ReplyDeleteWonderful image of the sky bleeding crows in drops of black ink.
ReplyDeleteSuperb imagery most fitting for the seasons of tricks and treats!!
ReplyDeleteThis is wonderfully dark and perfect for the spooky season, Susie! 💞 I love; "The sky bleeds crows
ReplyDeletein drops of black ink."
I love the way you’ve made the ordinary eerie, Susie, especially the ‘palm of eyes’ and ‘ear of skin’. I love the monochrome imagery of:
ReplyDelete‘The sky bleeds crows
in drops of black ink’
and ‘the season of crumble’ is a great phrase!
I love the idea of the season of crumble and how it carries through so effortlessly in this poem
ReplyDeleteDays darkening before they begin, crows dropping like raindrops, and the wicked holding court in the season of crumble...No finer imagery to be had anywhere, SC. Well done!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! The language, rhythm and rhyme of this make it sound like an incantation.
ReplyDeleteTruly wonderful! This is my favorite stanza: "the season of crumble."
ReplyDeleteI love 'The sky bleeds crows
ReplyDeletein drops of black ink,' excellent!
Oh, what wonderfully spooky images!
ReplyDeleteLuckily we are looking forward to Summer in Australia otherwise I would be shaking in my shoes with another winter coming, Hopefully I shall have forgotten your words by the time may comes around next year.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteDeliciously dark!
This reads like a wondrously wicked incantation. As many have already pointed out, your metaphors are exquisite!
ReplyDelete