FALL

FALL

by Robin Shwedo

©: Robin Shwedo, 1996



Fall –

even the name evokes such feelings of colors;

the being’s eye remembers

brilliant colors on mountains and hills

as the leaves turn

slowly,

tie-dying the normally dignified hills

into a late-life devil-may-care attitude –

as though,

after a delicate please-the-world spring

and a young then middle-age dignity of status-quo,

the aging of the year decides the heck with it,

and colors itself to please itself and,

in turn,

pleases those around it,

as if,

by finally being itself

– LOUD, BOLD and in your face as you please –

it takes our breath away,

leaving us with enough to think on

during the cold, white silence to come.



This is part of my collection titled Revolutionary Broads and Other Nightmares which is currently looking for a publishing home.

I WONDER

I WONDER

by Robin Shwedo

©: Robin Shwedo, 1996



If I were to suddenly disappear,

I wonder if anyone would wonder

where I was,

or if I was okay;

if anyone would ask,

“What is she up to these days?”

Would “Is she alive?” enter their minds,

and,

if so,

would they really care for an answer,

or would it be a rhetorical question,

similar in consequence and concern as

“Some weather, huh?”

And so,

quietly I begin to cut ties,

sure it doesn’t matter

much

to anyone.

Except,

maybe,

to me.



We all have days when we feel this way. This is part of my collection titled Revolutionary Broads and Other Nightmares which is currently looking for a publishing home.