PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

On the Last Day of Autumn


On the last day of Autumn

I could have woken up;

I couldn’t have

 

On the last day of Autumn

I heard them sing;

I couldn’t have

 

On the last day of Autumn

The day was quiet

And they were quiet;

But they couldn’t have been

 

On the last day of Autumn

I couldn’t see them

But I heard them

And I loved them-

The sweet voices

I had missed so much

 

On the last day of Autumn

I couldn’t hear them well

So I took off my headphones

And I heard music

 

On the last day of Autumn

They sang with all of their power

They sang so effortlessly

What their song could mean

How meaningless they knew it was

 

On the last day of Autumn

I tried to hear

I tried to remember

What their voice was like

What it was always like

 

On the last day of Autumn

All was silent

And they stopped their song

I will wait for their return

 

On the last day of Winter

I want to hear them

I want to know their song again


On the last day of Winter

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Scapecrow

I am seventeen years old. My favourite sport is hockey and I like meat and potatoes. I have a pet leopard gecko named Mr. Owen (named after a character in Agatha Christie's "Ten Little Indians"). I plan to be a theatre major at UW-Milwaukee next fall, and to minor in animation. I'm the only female tenor in the Milwaukee Irish Fest Choir. quote: "The world is rather bitter; that's why everyone wants sweet things." -The Undertaker, Kuroshitsuji

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.