Thursday, September 26, 2013

Pinched Nerve

Pinched Nerve

The first touch of fall
Pushes the leaves
Towards yellow
And gold.

A pinched nerve in hip
Arrests my gait
In its natural rhythm
Am I old?

Autumn is my favorite time
Spring’s over rated
Easily blemished
By an inconsiderate touch

Summer is overblown
Vulgaire in its extremes
Base in its green or blue
Lacking the sophisticate’s brush

And winter

Well winter is cold and old
A time to reconsider
And philosophize
And wait for that longed for breath
Of fragile spring.