"Time is an illusion, but it’s: "Time is an illusion, but it’s made out of real things.
Kind of like yourself."
A stellar way to wrap up your cleverly casual and relatable expression.
I love poems about Autumn;: I love poems about Autumn; and this strikes me as just such a poem. Tremendous emotion resonates from a few sparse lines. Concision and compression, which this poem adroitly demonstrates, are signs of classic talent---as the great Poet, J. V. Cunningham asserted, decades ago.
A very understandable state: A very understandable state to be in. If memory serves, the term is seasonal affect disorder. Although I wonder why is should a disorder when it is more of a syndrome. Perhaps sad is better than sas. lol. Thanks for sharing.
Brilliant use of contrast in: Brilliant use of contrast in this dramatic and picturesque tribute that activates the sense of taste in a highly symbolic way.
As always, your poetic craftsmanship stops me in my tracks and seizes me with amazement. What literary experience is better than that? Everything you conjure is phenomenal. I mean that.
Simply wondrous. I echo what: Simply wondrous. I echo what Starward wrote; it certainly is profound emotion contained in a succinct, beautiful package. Each line is the definition of elegant yet pulsating brevity, then sewn together loosely with the crafty use of white space it becomes . . .
a marvel.
The last line rings true with such power and perfection that I don't know what else to say.
"veil of absolute gloom: "veil of absolute gloom spritzed into the wind,
or with pondering paintbrush perhaps fixed
by the trembling hand of omnipotent genius."
And what luxurious, atmospheric, mind-blowing strokes of genius your poetic brush has brought before us!
I need to burrow deep into each explosive line to grasp, then emerge, with the actual experience, which I interpret as surreal, menacing and hallucinatory. It could also be dazzling symbolism for an oppressive force or fear, but whatever the translation, it is absolutely worth the mental workout.
Such art! I'm still breathless.
Somewhat likened to the: Somewhat likened to the tribute to the best song ever written. Could it that both writer and reader create the composition together and this symbiosis is what makes literature what it is? Like from two opposing banks the selfsame river flows. And yet the water in it is always different but in some ways the same.
The completion of this will: The completion of this will sit steadily on her and what she does or does not, it would appear. She walks away for 'ere heart's dearth...
"Waiting, wishing, wondering": "Waiting, wishing, wondering" such a powerful rift to riff off; the distinct absence of the called for commas bring a whole feel of meaning that otherwise grammatical/syntactical convention would smother. And the penchant for us humans to pin our existence to the behest of others is unfailing in every period of history. A truly gripping expression.
There is a prophecy and: There is a prophecy and promise that anyone that lives by the sword ⚔️ dies by the sword ⚔️ Hence peoples and nations that live by war shall by that *virtue* be decimated by war; which seems to be true of the ancient warring empires. It's kind of like the Bermuda Triangle of gratuitous violence. Just a thought really.
There is a loveliness and: There is a loveliness and energy to youth that is often not appreciated at the time. Of course, that is also part of the process of life. If we were wiser and more thoughtful as youth, we might well be smart enough to not do all the crazy fun things we look back on so fondly.