isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

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Isobel Cunningham has published short fiction and poetry. Her book, Northern Compass is available on Amazon. She was born in Wales but Montreal is her adopted home. She speaks French, Modern Greek ( it’s a fun story) and a little Spanish…oh, English too, of course. She welcomes comments on her blog and looks forward to chatting with you over cyber-space.

Gold in the Gutter

 

 

 

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Gold in the gutter
The hour, the golden hour has come
For you to flutter, for you to fall.
Your song becomes a stutter, a cry.
The others lie though they too were so proud against the sky.
Gold and high but no more can they fly the flag of beauty.
Gold in the gutter

Once green, lush
A sign of life, renewal
The hours, cruel hours rolled
Clocks have chimed, bells have tolled.
Now became your when.
How green changed hue. Now still gold on blue,
Still hanging on the branch
This day a chance, a little gasp, one grasp of an Autumn day
So soon gold in the gutter.

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One response to “Gold in the Gutter”

  1. Masha Avatar
    Masha

    As I read your poem I see a similarity to Walt Whitman’s poetry, I characterize this as conversational poetry.
    I love the journey that the leaf has taken only to end in the gutters! Yet it has become gold! A glorious end !

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