You’re just a season

by Star   Jul 7, 2020


Poems bloom with warm sunrise,
nectar of words sweeten morning coffees

but

verses of you wither before
they find their way into my pen.

5


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Latest Comments

  • 2 months ago

    by Lost star

    Simply, a stunning poem.

    • 2 months ago

      by Star

      Thanks!

  • 3 months ago

    by Rania Moallem

    Powerful, sad, touching...moving..

    • 3 months ago

      by Star

      Thank you ^_^

  • 3 months ago

    by Milly Hayward

    A short but powerful piece. M.A and Hireth have summed up already. So just wanted to say every word has meaning and depth. Perfect..Milly x

    • 3 months ago

      by Star

      Thank you Milly ^_^

  • 3 months ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    The metaphor here ahh! This is the definition to me of a bittersweet poem, and the brevity worked well to illustrate that as well. The hope and rebirth promised in spring, at perhaps the start and onset of a relationship, and then the complexities of them, where it makes it more difficult to write and remember them. It made me think of several things: people passing us in our life who we thought were permanent fixtures in our world, who we became loyal to, yet they were not committed. And how memory can be something we want to hold close to, but at times, want to completely fade away and not set in stone, in ink.

    Beautiful, Star!

    • 3 months ago

      by Star

      Writing this I thought it was simple, but seeing how you guys are just getting is making me truly happy. Thank you always ^_^

  • 3 months ago

    by hiraeth

    I really love this piece. Where do I even begin? I love the title, it foreshadows the poem a bit - with seasons being temporary. It's short but effective. The first verse you wrote

    "Poems bloom with warm sunrise,"

    with sunrise as a precursor to evening/night, it also hammers home this sense of 'temporary' and ties in beautifully with the title. It also might be a nod to poets being more active at night, as they're able to sift through their day to find inspiration and find it easier to write at night with less distractions, I love the idea of poems blooming.

    The second verse you wrote

    'nectar of words sweeten morning coffees' which also ties back into into 'night/temporary', with poets being able to read their poems again in the morning or works by others, with fresh eyes and a blank slate, effectively being able to set the tone of their day as referenced by the 'morning coffee' bit.

    Then the ending, the beautiful bittersweet ending; this is where everything masterfully gets tied up. Referring back to the title - you write that the subject of this poem /'you' wither up before you're able to pen them into the poems you write at night. It made me think of morning dew dissipating in the heat, going back full circle. You'll never be able to write about them, as much as you try and maybe you've made your peace with that or you still lament about it. What's also interesting is the title, it suggests that this is all temporary, does that mean you wanting to write poems about them is just temporary, or more so that they're temporary, drifting in and out of your life like seasons do. It's really subtle but there's a lot of substance to this piece. I'm envious of this piece. :)

    Nominated, good luck!

    • 3 months ago

      by Star

      The comment is amazing thank you really :)

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