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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 authorís permission.


Ken Hada is a professor at East Central University in Ada, Oklahoma, and hosts a weekly podcast, "The Sunday Poems." Author of ten books, the latest being Come Before Winter, his 2021 book, Contour Feathers, received the Oklahoma book Award. Ken's work has also received awards from Western Writers of America and the National Western Heritage Museum. Raised in the rural Ozarks, he enjoys hiking, flyfishing, and kayaking. Learn more about Ken at www.kenhada.org.

                                                 

 


Post New Comment:
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


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