Arts + Scene » Poetry

How Can Such A Beautiful Day Bode So Ill?

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Sun comes up
bright in a spotless sky
Where is the November that was,
that old month of rain and fog?
Amaryllis' poke out strong green leaves
one week after I cut October's wasted stalks.
Did they forget about winter to come,
how they used to bide their time or
is this their spring now?
Do they know something we don't know?

Sun lies low.
Is this the evening of something or
the mourning of something else?

Carolyn Lehman


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