Round, ripe marula fruit
bursting yellow skin.
Sweet (but tart) juices
running down chins
make sticky fingers and hungry tongues.
Gone.

Soaring black raptors
cut through clear sky
in concentric circles
on thermals they ride
on heaven’s carousel.
Gone.

Black and white ribbons
on horsy hide,
hanging in harems
give oxpeckers rides,
following the rain with their wildebeest friends.
Gone.

Looping and swirling,
catching prey on the wing.
Skimming the water,
tails that stream.
Warbling swallows who witt-witt and pling.
Gone.

Oh, Autumn,
who chases my friends far away.
My heart longs for September.
Will they come again?

 

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DAY TWENTY-FIVE: 25 April

Write a poem that:

  • Is specific to a season
  • Uses imagery that relates to all five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell)
  • Includes a rhetorical question, (like Keats’ “where are the songs of spring?”)