Autumn Descending

Poem on the aging and forgotten

It is Fall down under

you can feel Autumn’s aching hunger, her melancholy

in the aging red of the dying leaves

bleeding here and there amidst the broken glass on the street

even the ravens seem more tentative as they carefully pick and choose through the garbage

but what is this sky above — untouched, aloof, spotless, without blood, without emotion?

hurl a glass in Her face — not a scratch is made

in the middle of a busy city — not a hammer blow leaves a single mark

not a dead body on the sidewalk leaves a single scar —

it is fucking heartbreaking.

© Carlo Zeno 2023

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Thank you for reading and thank you to Franco Amati for considering this poem for his pub. Check out these two evocative poems by Anthi Psomiadou and Harold De Gauche below 🙏

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