Saturday, September 8, 2012

Equinox



painting by susan i.c. howell


Equinox


“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf 
is a flower.”--Albert Camus


Here in the northwest, Autumn can be
a polite performer, waiting patiently in the wings
for the Indian Summer to wane;

but then it chugs out to center stage
like a runaway bulldozer, inexorable,
terrible in its turbulent intensity,
like some East Indian god statue
with twelve arms and eyes of fire,
and held in each hand of bronze
there is a different paint brush,
dripping with several powerful pigments

like
lemon mustard yellow,
cadmium deep red,
morose magenta,
indigo and cerulean blue,
cobalt green,
chromium oxide green,
buff titanium,
golden ochre,
mars violet,
burnt orange,
soft suede brown,
and raw umber--

the naked evidence of what happens
to living things that are kissed
too passionately by a rainbow.

Residing in the autumn of my own arc,
I dance deep in everyone’s leaf sculptures,
inhaling the dampness, the early onset
of a beautiful epilogue, pretending
for a miniscule moment
that the white death
is not next in line
for all of us. 


Glenn Buttkus

September 2012

Posted over on dVerse Poets

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?

16 comments:

Brian Miller said...

the naked evidence of what happens
to living things that are kissed
too passionately by a rainbow....wow, really cool answer in that...and the white death will come...and regardless your season we should be mindful of it and enjoy this moment...smiles.

Mary said...

Glenn, I really like the Camus quote!

I try to look at autumn as you do - enjoying the beauty and pretending (or pushing out of my mind) that 'white death' is not to follow. Sometimes I even succeed! Smiles.

moonlitpoetic said...

'living things that are kissed
too passionately by a rainbow' - adored this..bathing in so many colors..and also the image of dancing deep in leaf sculptures residing in the autumn of your own arc.a truly sparkling poem :)

Claudia said...

lemon mustard yellow,
cadmium deep red,
morose magenta,
indigo and cerulean blue,
cobalt green,
chromium oxide green,
buff titanium,
golden ochre,
mars violet,
burnt orange,
soft suede brown,
and raw umber--....just love all the colors...and then of course the next two stanzas...much depth in this...

Louise said...

Lovely descriptions of Autumn...love the colours..."Residing in the autumn of my own arc" is a great line..a lot of depth to this :)

Lori McClure said...

All of those vibrant colors are wonderful, and these lines my favorite,

"the naked evidence of what happens
to living things that are kissed
too passionately by a rainbow."

Great lines!

Quotes,Photos and a little Poetry said...

This is one of my favorite writes of your Ever. **** stars my friend.

flipside records said...

Gorgeous: "Autumn can be
a polite performer, waiting patiently in the wings
for the Indian Summer to wane"

Love the coloring in S3.

Intense: "the naked evidence of what happens to living things that are kissed too passionately"

Powerful ending as well. I especially like "Residing in the autumn of my own arc, I dance deep in everyone’s leaf sculptures."

Another excellent piece, Glenn.

She Writes said...

The naked evidence of what happens
to living things that are kissed
too passionately by a rainbow.

This is beautiful

Polly said...

Ah, she waits in the wings ~ lovely

montygrant said...

Glenn, this, might l suggest is descriptive wonderment in all its magnificence! The list of colours (correct spelling) is pure genius my friend!

Marbles in My Pocket said...

Wow! This is an awesome write, Gleen! Love the colors, and I remember the indian summer and the sudden wet fall of the great "northwet" (<--I dropped the s when I lived up there). Very vivid writing. Love it!

Beachanny said...

Absolutely captured it! I think the Pennsylvania fall is the most beautiful I ever saw. I've been to New England for color many times but in PA the hills look as though they've been painted as the color drips down to quick streams and rivers and they're ablaze with every brilliant hue one can imagine. And yes one has to hold the moment because though the change isn't as quick there as with the Aspens who are gone in a blink, one doesn't want to rush to the white out. Perfectly realized!

vivinfrance said...

The painterly touches add vivid life to this beautiful poem. I love it.

Paul Bauck said...

All things being equal, a very nice poem.
;-)

kkkkaty said...

We are blessed with Indian summers in the PNW for certain and hit the nail on the head with this poem...have never experienced New England on fire, but I've seen pics and it's gorgeous, too!