Friday, October 3, 2014

A Poem by Martin Hicks

The weather turns in subdued season
Red-coloured woods to sedate grey.
Regressive, as bright wit flies reason,
Grim, senile Earth wears dull array.

Weak sun departs till times hereafter
When all shapes note a cheerful scale,
When tone as tint joins rill run laughter
And warmth strips frigid, fearful veil.

Here now a songbird-late companion-
Death makes discarded crate its home.
Sweet, guileless tune for natural union
Finds throaty stop, gulped... styrofoam.

One whitish chip midst seeds mistaken
Then poor choice vital passage chokes
Where on path, only cold gusts shaken,
Dead leaves lisp further chilling jokes.

-Martin Hicks

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