Poems//The Autumn Queen//

The Autumn Queen

A crown of gourds and acorns

As orange as pumpkin juice.

I uncurl and trace my fingers

Through bark carved curlicues. 

 

Acorn cups to hold my blood 

I raise a glass and drink to you.

Bark free initials that will leave

An indented sign or two.

 

Curled so tight I bend in ways

My heart won't recover.

White limbs like forced narcissus

My pale nakedness received forever. 

 

Seed head bones click clack

In the space between my ears.

I roll and turn in leaf mulch

Black as tar my frigid fears. 

 

Droplet sparkles of summer rain 

Stowed inside green tonic wine glass.

I drip the diamonds on my finger tips

I tell the spiders 'this pain will pass'.

 

Mallow orbs of snowberries

Make me shiver and ache.

Their stringent woody taste  

Quiets the fretting for everyone's sake.

{This is the first of a series of seven linked poems called The Forest Book. I think I will publish them altogether in the next few days. They focus on my interest in forests, in gender and in power.}

{Image from Pinterest}