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First Frost
by
Ken Hada


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We knew it would come.
The hay meadow
beneath pecan and elm
lies bare before unseen
force falling.

Everything bristles.
The world is scarred,
brittle, changed -
under thin white skin
a heart hard as stone.

The moon is high
in empyreal sky, the sun
lags behind a hill - death's
chill arrives - seems
like only crows survive.

 

From Persimmon Sunday (VAC, Purple Flag, 2015).
Used here with the author’s permission.

 

 

Purchase a framed print of this poem.

Ken Hada is a professor at East Central University in Ada, Oklahoma. Author of six books, he was raised in the rural Ozarks and enjoys hiking, flyfishing, and kayaking. Says Ken, “I find the natural order a powerful presence for writing. More than sentimental ‘nature’ poetry, I often situate a troubled or confused or lonely speaker of a poem within the natural rhythms, as an ordering, a correcting presence in the life of the poem.” Learn more about Ken at www.kenhada.org.

 

 


New comments are closed for now.
Lori Levy:
Totally captures the look and feel of the "first frost."
Posted 11/13/2016 01:42 PM
cork:
empyrean sky
Posted 11/13/2016 10:33 AM
hujsaked@aol.com:
- And tomorrow, Nov 14, the full moon will look super big, and will again in 2034. Nice poem
Posted 11/13/2016 09:13 AM
blueskies:
Gripping poem on many levels.Thanks,Ken.
Posted 11/13/2016 07:55 AM
KevinArnold:
I feel an urge to reserve the right for Ken to introduce 'a downer,' especially with his relevant quote that Jayne included in his intro. Solid poem.
Posted 11/13/2016 07:22 AM
Newf:
Beautifully written but such a downer. Even on frosty mornings I have cheerful sparrows in my hedge. Squirrels come out and scamper. We'll be dead soon enough let's celebrate life especially on frosty mornings.
Posted 11/13/2016 06:26 AM


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