Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Last Stand


Last Stand

Tremulous stalks sway
where once crickets fiddled their way,
nightly concerts played

now silenced as frosty nights
lick quivering petals,

tickle mountainsides bursting aflame;
defiant southern rebels
dressed not in gray

but majestic golds, purples, and reds,
arms raised toward the sun
in surrender.

by Margaret Bednar, October 22, 2019

This is linked with "dVerse - Quadrille #90 - quiver"  44 words

5 comments:

brudberg said...

I love how you describe the explosion of colors in battlelike terms... but I fear the winter will win

Frank Hubeny said...

I like the surrendering at the end with arms raised.

De Jackson said...

Just so very beautiful.

Dom said...

My favorite form of surrender <3

ayala said...

Lovely poem!