We may have had all summer to enjoy the sun, and now night and day are even. Yet as autumn begins to descend, I can’t help feeling it’s not a fair fight. I keep waiting for the last leaf to fall — for the other shoe to drop.
Flaming, leaves are red —
In a world that’s upside-down
Somewhere it is Spring
I am transported back to the lunch table,
The innocence of elementary school friendships;
And the sun which now shines on me witnesses
This hit of intense nostalgia-bliss:
Taste of sticky-sweet and I am somehow free,
All else that surrounds me is extraneous.
Extracting happiness from the memory,
Sensing a stable, never-gone presence.
Good things happen when I eat lunch outside, I guess! Inspiration is found in the most random places. Linked with FOWC: Extraneous.
This is for Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry #37, where she gives us a few prompt words and a theme. The theme this week is “When I’m old.” Update: I am also linking with DVerse OLN.
When I am old, may I be
Beautiful, as antique brass.
May life still be
Fresh as the wild huckleberries
Which grow under the
Wide, Montana sky,
The state where my grandparents live.
May the turbulence which comes
From storms of cumulonimbus clouds
Provide rain and light, to make
The ground on which I plant my life
Verdant; and if
The grass is greener in the past
Remember: yellow is
The color of happiness, and candlelight.
This is my (late) response to Linda’s paint chip poetry week 34. I meant to respond to it yesterday, but despite this and other prompts, I had few good ideas. It appears my brain is working this morning. 🙂
I wear my heart on my sleeve
So swift to sadden but even
Quicker to smile or grin —
From cats’ cuteness to cupcakes
Or ice cream’s scoop of delight,
I look at the stars and see
Of sweetness there’s a galaxy.
This is my response to the Saturday Mix (on a Monday), “opposing forces.”
When the plane departed it was dark;
Now upon arrival the sky is light:
Time passed faster, going west to east,
From resting place to whence the sun comes.
Now, after this long flight she finds
A place where maybe she can stay.
Come — you have nothing
To be afraid of.
Come — follow me
All the way across the sky
I am the sunrise.
I am what makes morning
Bright and beautiful.
Awake — next to my breaking
Rays of nascent dawn.
Awake — are you following
My light’s arc, so lovingly drawn?