Daisies and Ragweed

Daisies and ragweed bloom
next to each other
by the road
in the shadows
of evergreens
thrust into a sky
of a blue
which has yet
to be named.

The windows are down
sunroof open
and Leonard Cohen
dances me to the
end of love.

The first falling leaves
dance on summer’s
last breezes.


Filed under Poetry

15 responses to “Daisies and Ragweed

  1. So very good Mark. Makes me want to head out for a fall drive.

  2. This is gorgeous, and makes the sadness of autumn disappear!

  3. Ah, you caught me here with your words about Leonard Cohen dancing you to the end of love. And connecting it to thoughts of autumn and leaves falling is very, very moving!

  4. nice…its cool and crisp here…and i am enjoying porch time…in a long sleave shirt, ha…might need to add me a little cohen to get ti just right….thanks for the suggestion…smiles.

  5. Summer bumping up against autumn. Was out on a country run recently and it was day just like you so beautifully described.

  6. Oh you make me want to put on the music and dance the day away–lovely Mark–Every time I come and read your words, you take me somewhere unexpected

  7. I always have loved that line” dance me to the end of love”. Beautiful writing.

  8. “…Leonard Cohen
    dances me to the
    end of love.”

    There are worst ways to go, Mark. Your words do lead into an expedition of self-discovery!

  9. Absolutely lovely. I was on that drive. Thank you!

  10. great visuals and suggestion…….very nice

  11. The end of one dance and the beginning of another – lovely thought.

  12. The first falling leaves
    dance on summer’s
    last breezes.

    Such is the situation preceding the wonderful scenes of fall! Nicely Mark!


  13. “The first falling leaves
    dance on summer’s
    last breezes.” such a great image!

  14. This is a wonderful evocation of space and time. I especially like the idea of the sky being a blue which has not yet been named (so we call it sky blue).

  15. Mark, you nailed this time of year perfectly. The ragweed playing pranks on our noses; the daisies showing their last blooms; the first falling leaves. I love fall, but ’tis an “early autumn” this year. Thanks for this. It makes blowing my nose feel ceremonial! Amy

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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