All of summer at my back
I pedaled into chance of rain
the sky clear blue with fringe of clouds
beyond the canopy, still green.Crackling trees alerted me
when fall rolled in, a granite gray,
crushed the warmth and snapped thick branches
dropping fractured in my way.I pushed on toward an overpass
repelled by wind as leaves in swarms
like agitated bats attacked,
and cold drops stung my arms."Really, guys," I laughed, "for me?
This cinematic violence?"
I reached the shelter, shivering,
an awed, delighted, audience.
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My weakness for clever rhymes sometimes seduces me into writing nonsense. So I drafted this poem without rhyme. Then, the morning I was going to post it, I read a poem by Richard Wilbur in which he rhymed just the last word, doubling the impact and making me smile -- what a pleasure! I then tinkered with my draft and found some rhymes already there; some rhymes came to mind that sharpened the lines I'd written.
So I've changed my mind. Rhyme drew me to poetry before I could read. I won't deny myself the pleasure of discovering rhyming relationships. I'm writing for pleasure, after all. - WSS
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