A backend dream
my entry for the "Falling Leaves" challenge #6
crimson rain dances, swept
by gusty winds, tired leaves fall
away, silence now.
I just discovered the expression 'backend' now that I was researching words to describe autumn colors.
In various places in the north of England and Scotland, autumn is commonly referred to as the backend, literally meaning the latter part of the year. In Lancashire and Yorkshire, a particularly wet and blustery day might be described as backendish.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Imola Tóth and writers in Poets and other communities.
I wanted to title this something different, but worried that my chosen title might cause problems entering the United States in the future so this is the new title. It's the greatest title. No one has ever written a title better than this. (All titles unrelated to content).
Let me be honest. I am finding this difficult. Now, I like a challenge, a stretch, a bit of an obstacle course. “Write about the decline of the British Empire in the form of a narrative poem in which your protagonist is an artichoke” I read, and flex my fingers. “Write a haiku to evoke the sensation of sibilance using only the first half of the alphabet.” “Well”, I think to myself, “this should be fun.” But “write about a system that isn’t working”? A system that isn’t working? Now? In 2026? ONE system? My favourite system that isn’t working? The sexiest system that isn’t working? The one giving me the most angst day to day? The one giving me the most existential dread? I am, as I say, finding this difficult. I will own that I have contemplated writing a thousand words on why the steady “all on” setting on my fairy lights is the EIGHTH of seven options which must be sequentially activated to get there, because that is a system that some fool came up with and it definitely doesn’t work, and now who is paying the price, eh? But how can I write about my fairy lights when…. When…. When….
By Hannah Moore4 days ago in Humans
Comments (6)
This made me reflect on how endings don’t have to be loud. Sometimes they arrive softly, the way your final line does.
Amazing poem✍️🏆🏆🏆
You've carried the transition from the relative quiet of fall to the silence of winter brilliantly, Imola.
Interesting definition for such a term. What a way to describe a November autumn. Good job.
Thanks for sharing that interesting note. I like it. Your opening line is eye catching.
Oh wow, I especially loved the way you described the leaves as crimson rain! Beautiful Haiku and I'm happy to learn a new word from you!