The Ravaging

I took up the challenge this year to make a blog post every day. At first, it sounded like an easy task, but I soon discovered it more challenging than I ever imagined. For part of the year-long adventure, I explored different styles of poetry. I decided to revisit many of these styles in November. NaNoWriMo takes up most of my time during this month. Plus, the weather turns cold, making it hard to go on an adventure unless Rooster and I decide to visit our baby chick in New York City. Sometimes I get a hunger for the road. Christmas is right around the corner. I wrote this poem about fall because this is the time of year when I like to snuggle in bed where it is warm. I call it The Ravaging.

The Ravaging

Naked trees dancing in the dark

Stick figures wounded by the wind.

Stripped of their beautiful attire

Golden foliage and rustic red as fire

Winters voice shrill and stark

A dangerous position impossible to defend

Swaying like a walker on a high wire

Bending to a dangerous desire

Once dressed in a gown of green

Pride always comes before a fall

Bare limbs click like bells in a choir

There is nothing left here to admire

Pink buds, the prettiest you’ve ever seen

In the spring covered me like a shawl

Before the ravaging and the winter’s quagmire

We were queens protected by our leafy brier

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

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