autumn

september fifteenth, and i wake up trembling,
frozen fingers and weepy eyes.
yesterday was the delusion of summertime:
coarse as august, glossy and sweltering.
the season of highways and strolls through the park.

autumn is abrupt, october poured across my
pale forehead. it streams down my back like ice water,
heat fading from the concrete.
summer rushes like blood to the head, and i drink down
its pulsing nights, so sweet, so full. fall is slowness:
skin burnt by the cold, tattered leaves on the curbside,
and the warm blankets, holding me so gently.

Zoe Cunniffe is a poet and singer-songwriter from Washington, DC. She has previously been published in literary journals such as Velvet Fields, Trouvaille Review, Meniscus and The Showbear Family Circus, and she can be found on Instagram at @there.are.stillbeautifulthings.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.