Autumn sweeps the laden trees,
spreading treasure on the ground
we cart off to a distant mill.
The soil aches for return
of what began in spring
and came to summer fullness.
You’d think the earth would surrender
but instead She flowers,
rising from the meagre dirt
to fill the sky with color.
So I go down to feed the dark
bereft of autumn gold,
comforted by the welcome land
hungry for the nourishment.
photograph by Jack Leishman
Reading of “Instead She Flowers”
Hi Don,
Love poem, like all of yours. This photo is not by Nastacia (whoever she is), but is one of mine..
Just like the earth, we do not surrender to despair!
Thought-provoking… What other cycles are not allowed to complete?
And yet always, we can be comforted by the welcome land.
Beautiful and evocative wordsmithing. Thank you for your poetry, Don.