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No More Autumn Poems (Edit) (Other) by Sasha

Now that there’s sweeping on the grass and leaves lie dumped beside the roads, the shaken, cold and unclad trees can have no need of Autumn Odes. What voice could sing in joy of death to those who cyclically die? More leaves are reddening the ground. Branches are limp and dry So, seeing leaves let down from boughs like petals from a twisted stem, I sing no more than needed for a requiem.

INTRANSIT 22-Aug-05/9:35 AM
A question for you and Sasha. Is it possible to write good, even great poetry without lyricism or music? Just for my own knowledge.




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