Early Autumn by David E Hall
Blood red poppies artfully arranged
in a tall, angular container,
riffle their crinkled petals
in the trifling breeze
created as someone walks by
Saluting the passer, they nod
desiring recognition, offer their
soul in exchange.
Sensing the poet, at the window, observe,
quietly, they flush and preen, delighted
by the sudden light, hopeful
they’ll achieve renown.
David is 83 and has been writing poetry for over 60 years. he is experienced in most of the major disciplines. He has published online but only once in print, due in part to a reluctance to submit, which he is now trying to correct. He is retired from sales and management and lives in central Illinois.