Birth of October
Fall is my favorite season, yet every time around this year I am struck with some form of heartache, loss, or adversity. Truth be told, it was October when I was writing this and was experiencing the same feelings in different capacities. In this poem, there are beautiful elements of nature paired with the very visual contrast of loss and remembrance, of past love and comfort received by others who don’t have a place in my story anymore. Through my revision of this poem, I was able to use the advice of my peers to be more specific with the direction of my writing. By altering the use of language within my work, I was able to carve out the muck of transition words and get to the root of what I wanted to say more quickly than I did before. In my revision I include imagery of a handful of senses, connecting my audience of readers to step into the world altered by my pen and receive a fuller understanding of the heart behind my work.
Birth of October by Anyah Jackson
I rock back and forth
until the wind stands still.
It’s cooler now since the
azaleas stopped blooming;
the ceasing of seasons
cascade beauty until she hits the
floor.
It’s colder than I remember.
A breeze strings across
my cheek as gentle as a
mother’s hand wiping her baby’s
face after a long cry.
A nature to love, coddle,
and hold on.
I fight the urge to pick up
my pen and write about you.
I fear the new would be bad
for the old.
Reluctance towers over me like
a giant. I place my pain
on the table, inevitable
Knife in my side.
My eyes fix on the pinks
and oranges of the sky – I can’t
help but clip back the sunset.
My heart paces rapidly,
the soles of my shoes aren’t
proud of following
the depths of your shadow.
Stepping on the seams of
your coat like thread
unraveling from a spool–
empty.
I smell leaves burning next door.
Embers dissipate the orange oaks,
ripped from the branches. No remorse
for the way they fall and hit the ground;
Torn from the root that was grown
By you.