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Right now summer fades away
in the Blue Ridge foothills of my home
where shadows lengthen day by day
and deer, bear, fox and bobcats roam.

Wild cherry leaves, the first to change,
now desert their summer host
quilting the ground with dull burnt orange
where they eventually become compost.

School mascots are adorning cars
in coming season's anticipation.
While acorns ripen beneath cooling stars
then tumble to their final destination.

And muscadines, sweet muscadines
have finally stopped being green
spreading pungent perfume from their vines
in tree tops where the blue jays preen.

For autumn is finally coming near.
I can just see the changing trees
and hear leaves crunched by running deer
as puddles cool prepared to freeze.

But I'm not there, I'm here instead
in a land as foreign as Mordor
where all is dry and hot and dead.
The only scents the fruits of war.

Hot wind bears naught but grit to eyes
and barbarians would see me dead.
I look into the scorched blue sky
and wish I was with you instead.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


Dig it
If you listen to to the recording you will hear that even to my Aussie ear you have achieved your goal of sounding cool without adhering to rules.
I hope your will give me permission to post it to out Neopoet Facebook site.
This is fucking good poetry.

Neopoet Directors

You came by just in time. I was about to delete this from the stream because it sat so long without comment. I guess the new comers are getting the most attention which is likely a good thing as it keeps them involved. And of course you have my permission to post and read this on the facebook site. Or any other poem of mine which might help the site. I'd prefer that you not post a photo until I manage to figure out how to get one to you without it making computer explode ...........stan

author comment

Anyone who can press the on button on a computer can upload a photo.
You know your 'ludditeism' is only tolerated because of your contributions to Neopoet and your stature as a poet. Other people have to cover for you all the the time.
You could at least learn to use email. I'm not joking. You do a fucking great job in all you do and your stature as a poet is unquestioned but learn to use a computer, please.

Neopoet Directors

I find a bit of kinship with those British people who railed against the mechanization of the industrial revolution lol.I actually Do have an e-mail account though and will slowly gain some other skills so don't give up on me yet . And it's not nice to tease somebody about their stature as a poet..........stan. PS I'm on the verge of starting to have spoken word to accompany all my new stuff and even some of my old stuff.
Just listened to your spoken word of this poem. In the word "muscadines" the I is pronounce as a long I not a long E. Btw, just in case you don't know muscadines are a type of wild grape which grow to the tops of even some of the highest trees. They ripen at the end of summer. No way for you to have known that as I doubt they are native outside the south east U.S.

author comment

You are a true Neopoet.

I must admit I like 'envision' better than 'I can just see', it is more visionary and a better poetic word and just cos you're a pastoral bumpkin is no excuse to detract from the carefully crafted feel of the rest of the poem.

Neopoet Directors

I'm kinda torn on using envision. to me the word implies something imagined as opposed to recalled. I'll dig out Webster and see what he says before next edit. Appreciate your input

author comment
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