If Bells Last of Fall’s partisans are the persimmon trees who suspend their weary gems on fog lain fields, and six persimmons in rooms closed to me ring the blue-gray toll of all not on display. If bells, they cut breaths then let each sounder vanish, cast among their shades as flint chips on the mountainsides-- dampened pink up close, they fossilize at each approach and clang. If fruit, they fade. Isaiah Silvers Isaiah Silvers was born in Washington, D.C. He now teaches English in Kyoto Prefecture, Japan.
2 Comments
Rebecca Ellis
7/6/2020 10:42:01 pm
Thank you for this gem. A gorgeous poem. I have re-read it a few times and it is fresh every time. This: "suspend their weary gems on fog /
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Sam King (Cranberry)
8/15/2020 12:05:39 pm
This is a gorgeous poem, Isaiah. It was passed on to me by Janet Hook. Glad to hear you are in my favorite part of my favorite country. Would love to see more of your work.
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