Tag Archives: fall

Poem: Out of Season

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I’m exploring a connection between haiku and sonnets again. I did it once before with a haiku by Matsuo Basho. I like the way that one turned out, and as I’m either at an impasse with my novel or at least a long hesitation, I thought I’d try to break out of it by writing a haiku and turning it into a sonnet.

It’s not the most cheerful of poems. In fact, as I wrote the sonnet, I began thinking about how we all try to hang onto our youth and how that can appear. I used to think I’d prefer to age gracefully, now I’m working out daily, trying things I’ve never tried before, dying my hair pink…it all feels right, but maybe it’s not?

Then again, if you never had a chance to bloom in spring, maybe you take the opportunity when you find it.

fall shadows don’t flatter
your rosy vernal blossoms
it’s too late for you


Out of Season
By Michelle Garren-Flye

What are you doing here, little pink bloom?
It’s obvious to all your time is long past
and putting off death just creates gloom.
Your beauty offends, you weren’t meant to last.

You weren’t meant for this kind of shadow
when even the sunlight is just a tad too gold
casting bare limbs in an unearthly glow
as a wind shivers by, leaving you cold.

I’ll have to bury you in the dry, brown leaves.
Remember how they looked in your youth?
That’s when your beauty was sure to please!
Now I’m afraid, it seems uncouth.

Stay buried please, accept what’s been done;
for flurries and frigid winds, the time has come.
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye

Poem: Now That I Am In Mid-Fall

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Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Now That I Am In Mid-Fall

By Michelle Garren Flye

 

Fall has been glorious to date.

Full of lovely color and warm days.

Breezy enough to invigorate,

With sun highlighting forest byways.

 

Now that I am in mid-Fall—it seems corny—

But I might like it better than Summer.

Summer was too hot, too bright, too stormy.

Full of buggy, muggy days without number.

 

But oh, yes, there were good times, too.

Days by the pool, lazing out in the heat,

Then slipping into the water just to cool.

Laughter, picnics, and flowers by my feet.

 

Yes, Summer could make you a believer,

But now that I am in mid-Fall, I think

I enjoy the mellow more than the fever—

And on the vine, I still see roses growing.

 

Some say Spring is best with days warming—

Greening, blooming bursts in urban sprawl.

But Spring is needy, showy, always wanting.

I see that clearly now that I am in mid-Fall.

 

Now that I am in mid-Fall with dry, brown leaves

Crunch, crunch, crunching beneath my feet,

Like worn out, torn up, decaying past years,

And I laugh at the roses blooming as a treat.

 

I wonder if I might not like Winter even better?

When I’ve swept the leaves away and all is clear,

Fire at the hearth, chores done, no longer a quester—

Now that I am in mid-Fall, and Winter draws near.

 

It might not be too bad, I think, sipping cocoa,

Blanketed in Love, settled in a rocking chair.

Maybe roses bloom in Winter sometimes, too?

Now that I am in mid-Fall—falling toward Winter.

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Photo by Michelle Garren Flye