written for Ragtag’s Daily Prompt “Yearn”
these are the circles by which we measure our pond: autumn virulent on the plateau lines of feverish trees and a fox with roadkill jaws tail gorgeous as a Japanese print dusk it is a sinking a net soft as yearning purple rears into orange and we drop into dim forest where green darkens over the trip of undergrowth and eyes those tiny fears, spark in headlights the moon hidden by a width of stars exotic bashfulness and at last a cup of tea simple spoon swirls reflecting the light my mother’s kitchen
Out of the Cave 
That last stanza is brilliant, and it placed me right in your mum’s kitchen.
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Thanks, Misky. Hope you’re having fun!
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I like ‘autumn’ very much —
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Thanks John. I agree. I think it’s the best part. I wrote this when I was very tired last night. Then tidied it up a little this morning.
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that’s how I work too; get most of it down in the afternoon, then tidy it up in the morning —
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“dusk / it is a sinking / a net soft as yearning” Those are gorgeous lines. For me the real magic of the poem is bringing autumn, dusk and the moon… into your mother’s kitchen. Just lovely.
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thanks so much Chris, I’m so glad you think that!!
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Perfect, Jo. I love the stanza starting “purple rears into orange and we drop into dim forest …
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Thanks so much, Tracy!
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Love your last stanza; wraps it all up beautifully!
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Thank you so much!
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