Wednesday, August 31, 2011

September




















September
by Linda Pastan

it rained in my sleep
and in the morning the fields were wet

I dreamed of artillery
of the thunder of horses

in the morning the fields were strewn
with twigs and leaves

as if after a battle
or a sudden journey

I went to sleep in the summer
I dreamed of rain

in the morning the fields were wet
and it was autumn.

1 comment:

meghna said...

What a gorgeous poem, Asha. <3

Blog Archive