MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
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Table of Contents

Poetry


Miss Byrdie

Brenda Kay Ledford

After days and days of rain,
magic slips into the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Sapphire skies reflect in puddles,

three wedges of geese resound
across the Grovesī farm.
I will not succumb

to the power of autumn until
Miss Byrdie bursts forth.
Memories stir like apple butter

bubbling over an open fire.
The mountain woman cared
for her family and flowers,

gave rootlets to neighbors.
I cannot remember her face,
but when the mums explode

with gold each fall,
Miss Byrdie spills fragrance
upon a breeze.




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Reader Feedback:
This is a lovely poem and because I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains, I think the metaphors and images bring the reader here where Miss Byrdie spills fragrance on the breeze.
~Glenda