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New November





New November

Fear ripped the skins from birds,
coating me in their shadows,

and feathers,
careening through sky.

The oak tree outside
shares my tenacious love 

for the past-
refusing to release last seasons leaves,

clutched tightly in branches fist,
dryer than a skeleton's dismissive kiss.




This Quadrille was prompted by the fun folks over at DVerse.

©2021 Christopher Reilley 

I would love to know what you thought about this piece. 
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Comments

  1. Gillena CoxNovember 1, 2021 at 4:02 PM

    Some very interesting imagery. Even though the poem is only 44 words.

    Happy Monday

    Much💛love

    ReplyDelete
  2. lillianthehomepoet.wordpress.comNovember 1, 2021 at 4:04 PM

    "refusing to release last seasons leaves,

    clutched tightly in branches fist,
    dryer than a skeleton's dismissive kiss."

    Love the image this presents, and the personification as well. Excellent use of the word....I enjoyed this very much.

    ReplyDelete
  3. brudbergNovember 1, 2021 at 4:14 PM

    I love the text, the dry leaves refusing to leave reminds me of an old oak... those leave always stay the longest.

    ReplyDelete
  4. ben AlexanderNovember 1, 2021 at 4:34 PM

    eww! I don't think I'd like a skeleton's kiss, whether it's dismissive or not, Chris!

    :)
    David

    ReplyDelete
  5. GraceNovember 1, 2021 at 5:02 PM

    I admire your personification of the oak tree specially with: refusing to release last seasons leaves. I imagine someone with a deep seated hurts, never releasing it outside.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Glenn ButtkusNovember 1, 2021 at 5:44 PM

    Your opening lines are killer; excellent. "fear ripped the skins from birds, coating me in their shadows and feathers". I REALLY ENJOYED THE POEM.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sanaa RizviNovember 1, 2021 at 6:56 PM

    This is deliciously dark and perfect for the season. I love; "The oak tree outside shares my tenacious love for the past."💝💝

    ReplyDelete
  8. DoraNovember 1, 2021 at 10:15 PM

    That last line was brilliant and caustic, and the first lined perfectly fraught with terror.
    pax,
    dora

    ReplyDelete
  9. Petru J ViljoenNovember 1, 2021 at 11:59 PM

    The near nostalgia but harsh ending. Wow.

    ReplyDelete
  10. robkistnerNovember 2, 2021 at 5:12 AM

    Nice work poet! Please come and visit me, share your likes and your truth! Would love to have you!

    ReplyDelete
  11. HelenNovember 2, 2021 at 1:02 PM

    Love your quadrille ... of all the trees on my street, the tree in front of our home still has its vibrant yellow leaves. The rest are bare. It must like me.

    ReplyDelete

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