Thursday, October 06, 2016

Thursday Poem - Outside

October.  Its brilliant festival of dry
and moist decay.  Its spicy, musky scent.
The church's parking lot deserted
except for this one witness,
myself, just resting there.

Somewhere a radio plays Flamenco.
A spotlight of sunshine falls on the scattered debris.
Blood-red and gold, a perfect circle of leaves
begins to whirl,
slowly at first, keeping the pattern,
clicking against the blacktop
like heels and  castanets,
then faster, faster, faster. . .
round as a ruffle, as the swirling
skirts of an invisible dancer.
Swept off into the tangled woods
by the muscular breeze.
The hoarse cheering of crows.

Inside the dark empty church,
long cool shadows, white-painted wood,
austere Protestant candles thriftily snuffed,
Perhaps a note on the altar,
Gone dancing. Back on Sunday

Dolores Stewart, from The Nature of Things

One of my favorite autumn poems ever, it is printed here with the poet's kind permission.  You may visit her online here.

3 comments:

Mystic Meandering said...

LOL - gone dancing for sure! Today we have RAIN - finally! A cool, crisp, wet 47 degrees... Ahhhhhh pure delight... And a lot of our trees are turning that same yellow that you depict here. Lifts the spirits... :) Hope you have a good day...

Beside a babbling brook... said...

smile....

Lindsay said...

Just perfect. Thanks!