I wrote this poem many years ago during a lunch break. It describes the beautiful view I had from my desk of Dayton’s Bluff in St. Paul, MN.
Dayton’s Bluff in Autumn
By Patricia K. Turgeon
A limestone countenance,
edged in gold and indigo,
tawny cliff’s leafy toupee,
umber, sienna, crimson,
black branches reverently bowed,
spruce, tall, dark, lonely green sentinels,
await snow’s humbling rebuke,
Below the bluff, satin ribbons of cool slate,
separated by alabaster bridges,
weaving, curving, undulating concrete pythons,
on whose reptilian backs race steel light-catchers,
motorized fuel-injected diamonds,
vainly reflecting, then rejecting the sun.
In the valley,
the Mississippi river mirrors the sky,
pink and violet misted mornings,
white cloud, azure water reflected evenings,
red and yellow striped tugboats and barges,
crawl upriver to deliver their cargo,
then flee downstream,
escaping the impending invasion of gray.