Poem
By Kimiko Hahn
My favorite months reside in autumn
when the sunset is riddled with crows—
and my wishes swerve to fly…
when the sunset is riddled with crows—
and my wishes swerve to fly…
Category
Fall
Showing 1-20 of 210 results
- PoemBy Danielle Shandiin Emersonare a reminder that ayóó nineez / extremely tall / ayóó nineez
& nizhoní / beautiful / nizhoní
things … - PoemBy Jessica RigneyIt's important she says that summer
Flatten itself against autumn. That it keep Insisting yes yes it'… - PoemBy Richard BrautiganI saw thousands of pumpkins last night
come floating in on the tide,
bumping up against the rocks and
rolling… - PoemBy Lindsay TurnerSome yellow sunflowers open down the street,
A ladder is open beneath someone’s apple tree.
Beneath … - PoemBy Karyna McGlynn& Memphis is out in Full Fang!
Skeletons skip down our pitted streets.
Whole families with matching hobo… - ArticleBy Tyler MaloneFor a poem about the brevity of every state of being, the single octave perfectly enacts its themes through its form.
- PoemBy Melvin DixonVermont leaves under glass,
Your hands working the frame.
Each piece of tree and trail
For an easy … - PoemBy Alvin FeinmanAnd the light, a wakened heyday of air
Tuned low and clear and wide,
A radiance now that would emblaze… - PoemBy David TaitA week of autumn snow, and today the sun,
the buildings fizzy with melting, the beggar
draping his sheets… - PoemBy Zakaria MohammedI await the end of August and the murder of September. I am here, tardy Autumn, waiting for you. I’ve…
- PoemBy Tim Tim Chengfrom the soil
We make our son. From the soil we make our son biscuits. From the soil we make our son… - PoemBy Khaty XiongFor a time the home was lost to me
my mouth forged in the night as I dreamed away
the barriers—stars… - PoemBy Connie Leungthese leaves are not from in here
they are nothing like the towering pine
that prickles crevices into… - PoemBy Nikki WallschlaegerMy fav event as harvest season approaches
is the rough seed that escaped the plots.
If there’s a cornfield… - PoemBy Annie FinchOur voices press
from us
and twine
around the year's
fermenting wine
Yellow fall roars
Over the ground…