We’re seeking more poems with the theme “Smells of Autumn” for September. Send yours to Maryann Riker, maryann_riker@hotmail.com. All poems must be original and created for display here.
Before diving into September, read past months’ poetry webpages:
- June – “Strawberry Moon”
- July – “Fireflies”
- August – “Sounds Fishy”
The themed poetry webpages are part of the Karl Stirner Arts Trail’s Poetry in the Wild Project.
“September Spice”
Nancy Scott
Chai tastes like another continent
when lips and fingers curve
to catch worth of warmth.
The autumn open door
turns truck exhaust
and final buzzing cicadas
into seasoned change.
Ask the new mown plot
not to cool too much.
Later, there will be charcoal dusk.
Later, there will be moonlit roses.
Later, there will be poetry.
“Dicey…”
JUSTARIP Press
JUSTARIP Press
Dicing tomatoes…
caught by the
smell of late
summer ripeness
the knife slips
and cuts.
Blood springs forth
like a
blood red moon.
“Night Tide”
Tagor Vojnovic
Tagor Vojnovic
Not from a yellow-red canopy, but black
the near-full moon hangs like ripening fruit
above the sea’s longing black waves,
their child a moonglade soft as memory.
“In my blush are ebb and flow, wax and wane,
all that is, was, and lives again in reverie.”
The night fishermen cast and cast again.
All that comes ashore is the warm sea-breeze
and its curiously off-season scent of jellyfish.
The empty lifeguard chair bids me to linger
as three revenants sway to a hushed torch song.
Let the night-tide sweep my footprints away.
“BETWIXT”
Danielle Notaro
Watching my Junior High School,
renamed 2 times, 2 different functions
becoming a memory, a leaf falling
in slow motion, disappearing
into the ether. A whole portion of my life,
the kids chattering,laughing outside
the side entrance, before and after school.
Relationships being negotiated,
plans,gossip drifting into the scent
of the season between Summer&Autumn..
The powerful blood red moon is coming.Watching from a distance.
Untitled
Michèle Bautier
Michèle Bautier
Aaahhh… the Autumnal morning air…
Taking it in…
Letting it go.
Its substance filling me with a certain calm.
Balm to my weary soul.
Untitled
Words by Kara
I Hear a Rustle
Leaves Not Green
Scent of Change
And in Between
The Karl Stirner Arts Trail Poetry in the Wild Project includes many opportunities to engage with local poets as they create spontaneous poetry on demand using old-fashioned typewriters on the arts trail, Easton Farmers’ Market, and West Ward Market. The project began with a celebration of National Poem from Your Pocket Day at the Easton Public Market and outside Book and Puppet on April 18.
This project is supported in part with funding from the Hotel Tax grant programs through Northampton County’s Department of Community & Economic Development, a Crayola Community Grant, and the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts, a state agency, through the Pennsylvania Partners in the Arts.
