October’s face
torn by wet winds
erodes and decays,
entering a deep
and melancholic
sleep.
It’s a worn and aging mask
painted with autumn
landscapes,
dreaming of sunflowers
broken by storms,
trees ripped into
spinning kaleidoscopes
of red and gold confetti,
and
tire marks
in the snow.
October’s face,
up against the wall of time
disintegrates,
fragments,
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.
art rat cafe 
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.
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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…
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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!
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These yellows and reds are stunning.
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I thought so too Sharyn, that’s one reason I wanted to capture it…
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“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?
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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.
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Agreed great colours and poem and the picture shifts depending on the angle looked at much
Like the month
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True Gary…often the face in the image is not seen, only the shapes and colours. This season is a shape-shifter for sure…
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I love the way the poem and art relate completely to each other.
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I’m happy you do Cheryl, thank you very much…
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Fall is not my favorite season, and this year it seems to be more sad that ever, but this is a lovely posting.
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I hear you Ina and understand. My heart is with you and your family…
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This is a beautiful poem. I spent some time outdoors today with my camera, just trying to capture a little of October before it leaves us. Your words so perfectly complement what I observe.
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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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milliseconds
~
transitions
of yellow orange
to brown
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then on
and into
earth
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