There are days that should be cold but aren’t,
Days of balmy peace
in mid November.
Full but never
overflowing duties,
Chickens, herbs, and
simmering pots of soup,
Windows rimming
tranquil skies and beauty,
Barns and dripping
eaves and stillness ~
These are perfect
days of soul, I warrant.
Days with nothing I
shall long remember,
The summer suckers
stretch from the fruit trees
Into greyness, the
long-forgotten fruit
Rotting warmly into
winter’s cruelty,
But not yet. Not yet
that illness ~
This day harks back
to nothing, bodes nothing,
Perfect in its
breath-holding twilight hour.
Bayboro, NC
November 12, 2018
copyright by M.K. Christiansen
Bayboro, NC
November 12, 2018
copyright by M.K. Christiansen
2 comments:
Lovely, good poet.
Sending love (and a BIG HUG!)
I'm thankful for YOU!
That's quite beautiful!
Post a Comment