October’s face.

October's faceOctober’s face

torn by wet winds

erodes and decays,

entering a deep

and melancholic



It’s a worn and aging mask

painted with autumn


dreaming of sunflowers

broken by storms,

trees ripped into

spinning kaleidoscopes

of red and gold confetti,


tire marks

in the snow.


October’s face,

up against the wall of time



descends with the leaves

towards darker days.


Its beauty is short

but the fall

is long.


poem and photo by clinock (edited redux).

photo: found wall art, Vancouver. Thanks and Credit to unknown artist.


17 thoughts on “October’s face.

  1. Love the fall colors John. In New York I always looked forward to the fall and winter…..guess because it was so different to what i grew up with. We often seek the opposite to what we are used to….Here October’s face could be the blue purple of the Jacaranda tree.


    1. The Jacaranda always reminds me of Mexico, it’s not a tree of the northern hemisphere. I think you are right that we are attracted to opposites. I grew up in the damp and gloomy fogs and rain of coastal England and although I chose to live in a similar climate here in Vancouver I am forever pulled to the sunny, dry climate of the Mexican desert…


      1. Understand how you love Mexico John. I lived happily in New York mainly because the winters have clear blue skies….similar to Australian summers. Loved the snow too……that was a bonus!


  2. “Its beauty is short
    but the fall
    is long.”
    These last three lines, John, are so resonant of the last lines of an truly epic 800 page novel that you can’t believe you’ve finished reading, not wanting to pass a day without it in your life, but knowing it will forever live in your bones. I have one of them on my shelf. You make me think it might be the winter to read it once again…
    Am I the only one who loves Fall?


    1. Jana…Grrr..you simply are not allowed to do this without naming the novel!
      I think that many of us love the fall, however, for me it is the one season that tears me apart with its ambiguity. The beauty of autumn comes with the poignancy of saying farewell to the sun and its children, it heralds winter. It resonates with the sadness of the last dance. We can indulge with impunity in the melancholic glory of fall as we indulge in sunsets, knowing that spring and another morning will come again.


    1. Thank you Debra. I look forward to seeing some of your fall captures. I have been wanting to do the same but each time I set out I am faced with dark skies, howling winds and rain (can I send you some maybe?)…


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