What Season Is It?

I decided to try Prosery again at DVerse. We are “jazzing it up” today. Lillian gives us the choice between two quotations from Carl Sandburg’s poem “Jazz Fantasia.” The one I used is, “Moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome treetops.”

The depression is usually worse in the fall, as the weather tends to be more cold and rainy. I am thinking — I am hoping — spring and summer will get the worst of it this year. I am hoping unsteadily, that in September or October, I can see more friends. Maybe even in person. Maybe I can go to the store and roll my eyes at all the pumpkin spice, and not even have to think about my (not-Halloween) mask. As it is, all day this whole world feels like The Twilight Zone, and some moments I feel so lonely that my soul wants to moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome treetops.

The Birds Outside

This is a décima for this week’s challenge, BIRD.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Avian calls are each day heard
Around this house, even indoors:
Heavily, light melody pours,
Each morning it’s freshly offered.

Hiding in trees’ branches, a bird
Decides it must sing me awake,
The gentlest alarm — I take
Its urgent notes to heart, and stand,
A hopeful morning close at hand —
A happy being, at daybreak.



Look at all the beauty
At the end of the world:
Carefully walk upon the rocks
And see, one tenacious tree;
Continue along those rocks
Following the mesmerizing moon,
The weakly-glowing, yet beckoning
Orb — the rocky path,
The end of the world,
Becomes a gate to mysterious more.

Thanks to FFFC #74 for the image and inspiration!

Elijah, You Get Me

I was doing the Liturgy of the Hours today, and 1 Kings chapter 19 was the first reading this morning. This isn’t the first time I’ve read this passage, but I’m always grateful for it. Elijah is so relatable. *laughs*

You get me.
You sat under the broom tree
Wishing for the Lord to sweep
Away your life, your misery.
Threats from Jezebel became
Too tough, so you had had enough.
But God didn’t grant that wish.
Good news for the rest of the Testament
I guess, but I’m still
Lying here, Elijah.
Teach me to take courage.

1 Kings 19:3-4 (NIV)

Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.”



This is for MLMM’s Tale Weaver, “I Remember Once.” I am also sharing it with the Writers’ Pantry. I’m not really sure if it’s done and maybe will add another couplet later.

I remember once, being called Tree Climber,
Based not on ability but on dreams and desire.

I remember once being called Jen-Jen,
A cute moniker from a much-missed friend.

Once recently I was called Ladybug,
Not sure what it means, but it felt like a hug.





September came cold

This is for NaPoWriMo day 8, and it is actually on prompt! I think it also fits the Weekly Scribblings, but I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting to be inspired by Twitter feeds, but this quote from the Anne Carson Bot stuck with me:

And for a moment the frailest leaves of life contained him in a widening happiness”
-Anne Carson

September came cold
His body fevered, chilled
The ghost of the wind
Rattled the bones of frail leaves,
Brittle brown coverings on trees’
Branches reaching toward grey sky,
Knowing heaven lies beyond the clouds.

He gazes through a window,
Following the trees’ leading,
He shivers, lips quiver
Upward in a slight smile,
Last breath rattles his bones
The ghost is loud.

Chipping Away

This is a poem that I wrote today in response to Linda’s paint-chip poetry #12. I did not precisely follow the prompt because my poem is not 12 lines long, but that’s probably okay. 🙂 I am also sharing this with the Writers’ Pantry.

A glacier rises magnanimously
Out of the blue chilly sea —
But the sunshine, and the heat
Beat down, to break its arctic heart
Melting, like a noxious popsicle
On the tip of the tongue —
We can no longer hide
Out in treehouses,
Like when we were young.

silhouettes photography of trees in mountain slope
Photo by Rok Romih on Pexels.com

Some Questions

Why are there blueberries in winter?

When I bite into their sweetness,

Ought there to be a bit of bliss?

Why does discontentment stir,

When there are blueberries in winter?


Why do we string lights on Christmas trees?

When the land outside blanches,

Kept beneath evergreen branches

There is a hope that no eye sees.

Why do we string lights on Christmas trees?

This poem was inspired by the fact that I ate blueberries with breakfast yesterday, and that really should be amazing to ponder. The two stanzas could be read separately, but in a way I think they kind of fit together. Sharing this with Poets United.