Thanksgiving by Ourselves

It is the week before

Thanksgiving

Already Crepe Myrtle

Has released

Most every small leaf

Attached to her

Ever so skinny branches

To become a coverlet

For the dirt ladened

Ground

 

Sycamore

Has a long way

Still

To finish letting go

Her large leaves

Needing to dry into

Burnished gold

Before they slowly

Fall

In graceful descent

To cover the grass

That surrounds her

Many managing to

Invade

The garden

Where Hibiscus and

Azaleas

Try to bloom

This late in

November

 

We will eat at home

By ourselves

This Thanksgiving

Day

With joyful memories of

Thanksgivings past

Here we will be

Together     together

What more can we

Want

What more could we

Ask

(written November 2021)

Truth to Tell

I Love these days

Letting go their light

Into a darkening sky

Late in an autumn’s

Afternoon

As the sun descends

Over the waiting ocean

Sends its final rays

Against the side

Of a distant hill

A canvas for many shades

Of mauve

That signal the end

Of day

 

I love the hints of

Coming night

Street lights on

House windows lit from

Within

Are there children

Around a kitchen table

Heads bent over books

Pencils in hands

Logs in a fireplace

Ready to burn away

A season’s chill

 

Then images of the many

With no place of their

Own

Nowhere to go

Push their way into my

Thoughts

Of home     of comfort

Full bellies

Stark realities of days

Growing shorter     nights longer

Colder

It is a duality of feelings

Inside me

Long in my life

Have I Loved fall’s dwindling

Days

Loved a friendly dark

Closing in

But there are two sides

To this picture

I would it were not

So

Would it were not

So

Not so

September Really?

I notice with startling

Observation

From a quick glance

Out my window

Night slowly coming in

Sky from the west

Lavender fading into darkened

Gray

This cannot be     can it?

Bright sun

Remained high in the sky

Just a minute ago     wasn’t it?

As I scooted home

My True Love

Close behind me

Both scooters very visible

Even with companionable conversation

With friends

After our meals

 

September a gentle

Month

Day and night

Live as equals

Until the Autumn Equinox

Slow as a snail     at first

Allows a darkening sky

To overcome the light

Of day

 

I am wary now

Will keep watch

Make note of when

The days fold into

Night

And know the time

Is almost here

To welcome in

October     really?