Poets of Autumn

Leaves have fallen;
we rake and burn them.
Smoke signals scent the season

O! How time does go on,
the pendulum never stopping.
No need to grieve for the trees;
they will endure.

Though the air is gathering a chill,
our Isadora scarves
dance in the wind.  We live
in the miracle of today.

This moment is irretrievable;
store it in your heart.
Time stops for no one
but it will pause for your song.

4 thoughts on “Poets of Autumn

  1. Sarah,

    So beautiful how this last series of your poetry follow from one to the next, like days leading from one into the next, leaving a trail of beauty as they pass. I notice I still have a couple more to read. You are inspired! I can’t wait for “tomorrow” but want to be fully in the moment of today, richer with the remnants of yesterday in my pockets!


  2. Deb,

    Many thanks!

    Autumn does something to my psyche, to my soul. It fills me with both hunger
    and contentment. I so much appreciate your response.


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