Welcome to Poetry Friday at Alphabet Soup!
Please help yourself to a mug of warm cider and an apple cider donut. Since things are tough these days, better take two. 🙂
While many of us consider fall our favorite season — we certainly love the gorgeous leaf color, the cooler temperatures and deep blue skies — there is always that shade of melancholy, a keener awareness of passing time.
As trees take their final bow in rustic costume, we become more appreciative of their transient beauty and painfully aware of our own mortality.
Recently I stumbled upon this poignant poem by Michigan poet David James. I think he gets it just right.
FALLING by David James I've wheelbarrowed over a thousand apples behind the cedars for compost. Hundreds are still left stranded in the branches, dropping with each burst of wind. Every year's a blur, and my heart marks another tally off inside my chest wall. This is the year of my first grandson, who purrs asleep in my arms, who looks through me with his dark eyes. I touch his soft cheeks and his little fists shoot out as if to catch himself. We're all falling into the great trough, I want to say but don't. I can't imagine his world without imagining the end of mine. Who will sit in this lovely yard and write poems? There's no doubt someone will, someone from the dying planet who will look over at the pines and remember his past and smile. The wind will blow apples down, the autumn sun will shine, and he'll hear the jay calling for no reason other than to file a complaint that the bird bath is dry as a bone. In the end, we all bow our heads in exile, and prepare, in our own ways, for the fall. ~ from Michigan Poet, November 2012
Now, please leave your links with the dashing Mr. Linky below. I’m looking forward to reading all your wonderful poems, reviews, and musings this week!
Thanks so much for joining us. Please stay safe, be well, don’t forget to vote, and have a nice weekend. 🙂
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