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Working an autumn garden
it's not hard to think about dying
when the thinnest, most delicate
of ices linger all morning
here and there in the yellow grasses.
The sun on our back
throws what is before us
into a sharp relief,
snapdragon wither from
stem to bud and dahlia from
the ruined blossom down.
Fruits, leathery pods,
nuts and berries,
a blizzard of seed,
blights, rusts and smuts.
The dry husks of the day
like a fire going out,
dying from its center
burning clear at last.
© by Bruce Taylor.
Used with the author's permission.
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Bruce Taylor taught Composition, Literature, and Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire for 35 years. Now retired, he is the author of eight collections of poetry and editor of eight anthologies. Poet Laureate of Eau Claire, Wisconsin from 2011 - 2015, Bruce lives with his wife, writer Patti See, in Lake Hallie, Wisconsin. Learn more about him at https://people.uwec.edu/taylorb/.
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transitions:
I felt the ending was brilliant, a perfect 'wrap=up' to a deeply felt and thoughtful poem. The last three lines my favorites... thank you ~ Judy
Posted 10/02/2012 11:14 AM
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marenomitchell:
Two thumbs up to these super clear images.
Posted 10/02/2012 10:35 AM
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Larry Schug:
Simply put, great poem. It's full of that elusive element I call texture. I can feel it in my hands, even though it resides in my spirit.
Posted 10/01/2012 10:55 AM
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Anjie:
Bruce, I love it! "dying from its center/burning clear at last" --- Excellent!
Posted 10/01/2012 10:45 AM
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peninsulapoet:
What is it about Wisconsin that seems to produce such fine poets? Excellent poem.
Posted 10/01/2012 08:55 AM
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Marilyn L Taylor:
This is a gorgeous thing, Bruce-- as E.D. wouldhave put it, it blew the top of my head off. Thank you for writing this gem.
Posted 10/01/2012 08:50 AM
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John:
You have to be a gardener to write, and appreciate, this part of the cycle. I had trouble just yesterday pulling out the beans because there were still a few still flowering!
Posted 10/01/2012 08:18 AM
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Gary Busha:
I like the garden similes. The poem is a lament, a necessary one, of the process of dying. Wonderfully written.
Posted 10/01/2012 07:40 AM
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jeanie:
wonderful poem, Bruce. I was trying to pick a fav line, but they are ALL so perfect!
Posted 10/01/2012 06:47 AM
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