Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 152

Over the weekend, I was in Webster, Texas, as part of the Houston Poetry Fest’s “Out of Bounds” reading. Our own Laurie Kolp made it out to the reading, and I met a few other “silent” readers of Poetic Asides, including Laura Pena. Click here to read about my experience (and see a few pics).


For this week’s prompt, write an October poem. I’ll let you figure out what writing an October poem means for you, but for me, I start thinking of pumpkins, swirling leaves, and football. And I think of ghosts, witches, and werewolves. Oh yeah, there’s also the shortening of days, cooler evenings, and candy. Plus…well, I guess I should just get to poeming.

“October in Duluth, Georgia”

isn’t quite the same as October in Duluth, Minnesota,
but the trees still start shedding their leaves
which catch fire in red, yellow, and orange flames
before burning into brown, crunchy cinders.
The sky is still blue–like really blue–and empty
waiting for winter’s grayness to fill the space
left by the sun, which has gone fishing somewhere
in South America. You can see the birds follow,
but we’ll stay and tough it out, because there’s
a certain comfort in watching an old friend leave
and having faith that life will go on and that someday
everyone and everything has no choice but to be reunited.


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110 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 152

  1. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    It’s October
    and once again the oaks and maples
    are turning pumpkin against the bark,
    others a deep golden amber.
    Some mornings my breath feels
    like ice cubes in my throat,
    despite this wooly scarf.

    Below the canopies
    horses continue to push against
    white fence railings while
    small deer wander local orchards
    searching for fallen fruit.
    Oh how the leaves crackle
    and flash under their hooves.

    The long slow push
    towards Winter is coming
    warns an owl in the distance
    as an armload of fir drops
    wearily beside the woodstove.
    But October only sighs and
    brings cider to her lips.

    © 2011 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. AC Leming

    This one stumped me.! Learned this froma client this am.


    the plane dips and pirouettes above yellowing leaves
    And Barley seed drops from yellow wings.
    Sewn before the soy leaves fall,
    The Seed works down to rise after harvest 
    And Prevent erosion on fallow fields

  3. taylor graham


    The rain has stopped, let’s walk
    among our trees. No special splendor –
    no roadsides painted crimson,
    gold, maroon like a travel postcard.

    Just blue-oaks disheveled
    by the dusty length of summer;
    valley-oaks standing tall but
    tarnished bronze; live-oaks plain

    and plump as a brown towhee.
    Oak limbs broken by old storms,
    trunks waiting patiently
    for frost, for snow. Rooted in rock,

    they let their leaves loose
    to the wind as if it were Providence;
    they give up their old coins. Spend-
    thrift, durable. Trees of home.

  4. Walt Wojtanik


    Over by the Rathskeller
    Concertina music wafts.
    The tapping of toes begins
    Only to break out into
    Beer drinking of copious amounts.
    Every man woman and child
    Realizes that the
    Fun never
    Ends. Belly up to the
    Schnitzel, the party’s getting started.
    Time to celebrate October!

  5. DanielAri

    I’ve been preparing a performance of Poe’s “The Raven” in observance of Halloween this year. Which inspired:

    “May I get you something, Edgar?”

    Poor Poe.
    I would
    throw a
    good fleece

    his should-
    ers. Then
    I would
    turn on
    jazz, low,

    serve green
    tea. Sit.
    Watch his

    its grief.

  6. Michelle Hed

    Heat Wave

    Patchwork quilts
    lay across the hills
    and leaves crumble
    beneath your feet;

    The sky is cloudless
    with a dark blue hue
    and bluebirds
    are migrating by;

    The air is filled
    with summer time heat
    and your shorts
    come out for one last hurrah.

  7. taylor graham


    I’m dizzy with too long looking up –
    surveying stars October-bright
    after the first fall storm. Stars that swirl
    tonight in spirals, and boundless –
    ether glowing till the moon blows full,
    the Hunter’s sword-belt sways,
    pendulum of heaven. A human can take in
    only so much illumination
    from above. Below, two neon globes –
    black cat, shadow of a shade
    masked for hunting vole or field-mouse –
    sweet fragrance of mayhem
    in the grass. Spirits on the wind. Sky
    stooping down to take us.

  8. Elizabeth Johnson

    Well, I haven’t written a poem in about 2 months, but today is just a perfectly poetic day… and so, October:

    Summer ages wisely,
    makes room for a seasoned
    old man winter, but
    tucked perfectly in between
    lies a brilliant autumn, like
    the zenith of middle-age.

    She glimmers with passion,
    gleams with splendiferous dreams,
    color spots splashed from God’s
    paintbrush, swished across the land.

    Tucked between gold and grey,
    October snuggles up with glory.

  9. Connie Peters

    Autumn Psalm

    Thank You for afternoon sunshine,
    clear blue skies and gentle wind.
    For walks in the park with friends,
    fresh air and final dose of yard care.
    Thank you for refreshing rain,
    rows of pumpkins and trees dressed
    in golds, oranges, reds, purples
    as if in celebration and thanksgiving
    for past long sunny, summer days,
    present crisp ones and the coming
    cold slumber and bustle of winter.


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