i'm not exactly sure if you remind me of Edith Sodergran here or if i am simply feeling a little like her these days since encountering her poetry. either way both talents (hers and yours) flood me with longing.
Autumn
The naked trees stand around your house
and let in sky and air without end,
the naked trees stride down to the shore
and mirror themselves in the water.
A child still plays in the grey smoke of autumn
and a girl walks with flowers in her hand and near the sky’s edge
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i'm not exactly sure if you remind me of Edith Sodergran here or if i am simply feeling a little like her these days since encountering her poetry. either way both talents (hers and yours) flood me with longing.
Autumn
The naked trees stand around your house
and let in sky and air without end,
the naked trees stride down to the shore
and mirror themselves in the water.
A child still plays in the grey smoke of autumn
and a girl walks with flowers in her hand and near the sky’s edge
silver-white birds fly up.
erin, you are always so generous, you make me cry.
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