Suzanne McGowan
ADVICE TO A LAZY POET ON HOW TO SURVIVE AUTUMN
Wake up and run, you sloven with sleep-filled eyes!
Constrict the hillside into a tawny gold
And shout huzzah non-stop ‘till the season dies.
If summer slunk off, but still seemed fullblown in size
And left you behind for dead, musing in leaf-mold,
Wake up and run, you sloven with sleep-filled eyes!
Now strengthen the woodland: gnarl, harmonize—
Enjoin, freeze, quicken fold over fold,
And shout huzzah non-stop ’till the season dies.
You’ve fired trees vermilion? Each small tendril dries;
Withdrawing and closing all pores against the cold —
Wake up and run, you sloven with sleep-filled eyes!
Focus the glaring noontimes with purple-grey dyes!
Turn thousands of cartwheels on ice, keeping your hold
And shout huzzah non-stop ’till the season dies.
When ice splits trees, clap hands and sing from the rise
A psalm or a bawdy song echoing richer than bold.
Wake up and run, you sloven with sleep-filled eyes!
And shout huzzah non-stop ’till the season dies.
Suzanne McGowan
Suzanne McGowan, a former teacher, currently resides in Chestnut Hill, MA.
She is especially curious about language and its possibilities. Her poems have
been published in the Aurorean, The Penwood Review, The Comstock Review
and The Windhover.
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