Skip A Stone In Autumn (A Poem)

“You will be missed!”

I utter from scornful and

mournful lips

on my tip toes I attempt to

peer past the horizon and beyond

the curvature of the world

so that I can glimpse

her fire

one more time.  

Statue-still waters ripple and lap

gently onto pebbles slick with melancholy

as cold breaths of winter

glimpse in on us 

inquisitive yet oblivious to our 

mourning there. 

I skip one more stone 

with warm days of August

still lingering to fingertips

now growing deathly cold…

turning, I exhale one last time

and reluctantly embrace

these colder days once again.

Image

 

photo & poem by Scott E. Strissel 11/5/2013

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