Cinnamon (poem)
''These shorter days are spent slinking into sunsets, hiding from the knife I call night...''
Among the fervid wind, doddering dogs
drag themselves from room to room.
November brings autumn
to the maple trees and their leavesÂ
contort into an afro shape. These shorterÂ
days are spent slinking into sunsets,Â
hiding from the knife I call nightÂ
with forked ends and cracked lips.Â
What’ll happen to the mariposasÂ
next month, during winter?
Perhaps they will perish
like Snapdragons and Petunias.
About Cinnamon…
The jubilant and glowing skies of California have been obscured by June gloom on and off. Some days, it even rains!!? Okay, realistically, there are only a few drizzles, but still, what a fantastic opportunity to ponder on autumn through this poem. I composed ‘‘Cinnamon’’ last autumn after being inspired by Jane Kenyon's (one of my favorite poets) imagery of the commonplace and botany/nature. This is my first time uploading ‘‘Cinnamon,’’ so it's still quite new to me.Â
‘‘These shorterÂ
days are spent slinking into sunsets,
hiding from the knife I call night
with forked ends and cracked lips.’’
More often than not, my poetry is slightly eerie. Emily Dickinson (my favorite poet) has a huge influence on me. Because of this poem’s autumnal imagery, I felt I could really experiment with its eerie tone. As the fall days stretch on, the days become shorter and shorter, leaving us with more darkness and gloom. Do you have a favorite season(s)? My favorite seasons are autumn and summer.
That’s all for now, Victorians! Thank you for reading, and do share your thoughts in the comment section below. I’ll see you all next week!
- Victorian Voices, Somiah Nettles xx
Beautiful work!
This is divine! Forever an autumn girl