Tall and crack-skinned sentinels
unclothe themselves as the sun shies slowly
as the lone wolf winter stalks
this copper hued cityscape.
I waste my time with diligence
uncovering our patch of dormant lawn
with sweeping strokes against the breeze
my feet wading the castaways.
October shapes are all a-round:
a pumpkin month, a warm pie time...
orange-colored dried out husks of
summer plans that simmered away at last.
Still it’s best I feel, to fall
into that windswept drift of dreams
beneath the trunks of undressed maples
welcoming naked winter’s kiss.
To fear the stillness and the snows
seems faithless while green memories
lie hidden in that hallowed crypt
out of which reformation soon will spring.
MNA 10.24.15
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Falling Leaves
Trained as a music teacher in Philadelphia, I directed music and worship in several churches for over 20 years. My family and I settled in northern Indiana where until recently I worked in the truck building industry. My goal in writing is to cheer the heart, challenge the soul, and glorify Jesus Christ, my Lord and Redeemer.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment