In the corner, by the Ash, leaves pile high.
The hummingbird feeder, empty now,
succumbs to wind, knocks on the side of our house.
Its patrons no longer inhabit the naked tree.
A lone cricket’s cry speaks of its imminent demise.
Color carpets the yard, swirls about me.
Behind the maple a pile of leaves, dry and brittle,
have spent their beauty, crunch beneath my footfall.
Last night I shredded leaves of a journal
written thirty years ago. The past remains a part of me—
its joys and angst, the questions yet unanswered.
Today, the garden’s loss molders, prepares to nourish tomorrow.
Written and linked to dVerse Open Link Night –with prayers for all of you feeling the effects of Sandy. I was tempted to write of her devastation, but need to reflect a bit more on this difficult situation. I will be on the road Thursday and Friday, driving to Southern California to celebrate my mom’s 92nd birthday. This gives me a chance to meet up with our own Claudia who is nearby. I’m very much looking forward to this opportunity. In the meantime, hope to “see” you all at the poets’ pub tonight.