I welcome the sweet sounds of autumn’s end
and onset of the winter’s quietude.
Denizens of nature in the woods find
deeper dens and curl up to sleep,
treasuring their energies until the time
to chase or nose out their next feast.
Long nights of silences and contemplation
of a white landscape that encourages repose
provide the time and emptiness that nourish
dreams: imaginings of people, places, vows
kept or broken, far from this exile place.
Stories never to be told, endings never known.
The driving rains, the ice, the winter snow
protect all that is wild until the summer’s glow.
Submitted to Poetry 101 Rehab,
currently hosted by Andy Townend Prompt: Forward
I don’t look forward, toward the future,
not because I do not want to see what comes,
for I know already far too well its promise
and the various branches of the road
that face all at its near or lingering end,
Nor do I look behind me, loath to leave
the pleasures and companions of youth,
idle days with many years ahead to hold
both current plans and following projects
that could have occupied a hundred lifetimes.
Today I sit here at my window, listening
to the sound of wind, taking in sweet
scents of promised rain. Holding myself
present to the now, I savor the smooth taste
of coffee in my cup, attend the texture
of the paper, feel the pencil in my hand.
The day is beautiful outside. This is an allergy day, and I have slept away most of the hours of it.
I did, when I got up the first time, write my Poetry 101 Rehab (prompt: Connection) poem for this week: We Are the Universe. It is on my Quiet Spaces blog.
Was rather odd, in that I could not think of anything to write in regard to the prompt. This morning, however, I woke up with a couple of related sentences going through my mind. I still do not know what set them off, turning them into a poem.
I seem to have taken a very long nap. How did it get to be Wednesday already? We bought all sorts of good things at the grocery and butcher’s shop, early in the evening. I cooked and ate a bleu-cheese burger. Didn’t think of the potato salad or, a special treat, the crab salad. Didn’t think of the chocolate pudding, which I haven’t eaten for what seems like ages. Just . . . very tired. I did take some photographs, and was going to do up a couple special for this blog. that may still happen.
Also, I did write my poem, yesterday, for the Poetry 101 Rehab challenge on Quilted Poetry.
Just in case you’re only following one of my blogs…I’m rather fond of this one because of the still vivid memory, half a century ago, connected to the poem. I am surprised, I guess, at how large a majority of my most favorite memories involve solitude and the feeling that the moment has become timeless. That I could tell when time started up again.
Our Monday was quiet. Samantha, Flea and I took some photographs of flowers and dead leaves. Sam and Flea pretended to be explorers in the jungle; the leaves have come out on the backyard shrubs, and they like to hide away beneath the long branches, which now are sporting tiny flowers.
Mara Eastern’s Poetry 101 Rehab prompt for the week is “Couple”. I do still plan to write a new poem to that prompt, but I already had such a nice one that fit the prompt, a poem of mine that I wrote for the 2007 Halloween Poetry Reading (for which I was editor, 2007-2013, for the SFPA): At Allantide. I also shared “Alien Life” as a response to the poem that Mara wrote to the prompt (just follow the link on the “At Allantide” page for Mara’s poem). It seemed fitting.
I took a long nap, this evening, and now it is at last suppertime. Or two o’clock in the morning. Or both.
I have written a poem to Mara Eastern’s Poetry 101 Rehab prompt: Second. “Second Sight” – http://t.co/z8RkMQUes0
I came into it late, and so I am hoping to catch up, this weekend, on the prompts that I missed at the beginning.
Also, Samantha and I went out into the back yard, this afternoon, and took photographs of the leaves on the ground. It’s really been too chilly to go out and rake them up. New leaves are coming out on the Cotoneasters, now, in spite of the cold.
The small Cotoneaster bush on the west end of the fence line has lost the whole sun-facing side. Most of the branches that are in sunlight and wind for most of the day have not leafed out. I will need Al’s help to saw them off.