Passing

Brilliant finery bends
in stark contrast
against the pewter sky

Mourners swaying in rhythm
bow their heads
to greet sorrow's damp chill

With such swiftness
summer's passing... in her wake
orphaned sunflowers weep

This little poem recently placed third in Artella's "Poetic Idol" contest, much to my surprise. Third place comes complete with a cash prize - yeah! Okay, so it's a little cash prize but there were lots of other goodies, too, including publication in an upcoming issue of e-Artella, with an artist's depiction of said poem.

The above image is mine, created as a part of a small montage (along with the poem) for a class I took about a year and a half or so ago. My first foray back into the world of drawing with actual pencils on paper in a very long time. Simple, but very satisfying on a creative level. The act of doing, I guess, as opposed to simply thinking about and dreaming of doing. (Click on the image for a better look.)

The poem came about when I looked out of my kitchen window one cold, rainy September afternoon and saw my neat, little row of sunflowers bent and bobbing (in unison) in the gray drizzle. They had been so perky and cheerful just the day before. It was a sad sight.