A Month of Change

Sometimes you have to put down the pen
Like coffee, brew, put on old leather boots
Get in a garden and follow some roots
Take some time off before you begin again
Let your brain rest for a while and then
As the season transitions look for fruit
Hidden under weeds and among new shoots
Continue till the air creates in you a yen

Sunsets cycle, squinting in streaks of tickled pink
Dusk earlier now my eyes close to sleep
Words melt on my pillow, my dreams bittersweet
I wake now, weeds and bramble is all I think
Day after day I fall in sync
From garden to garden we cut and pull
Preparing a bed that’s not too full
For winter’s blanket to fit and fill in the chinks

The black bear this morning plodded through leaf covered grass
A grizzly? I don’t know, it matters not to me
The first one to my eyes this summer brought glee
Funny how stories about others can pass
Through you like a ghost but as they fade fears amass
An essence leaves you feeling less than a flea

Looks like smoke and ash, no, just October clouds
Over rolling hills laced with shadow
I sense a leash, whoa, a time to forego
As each day morphs into a radical shroud
As I try to decipher between humble and proud
I stake claim to both as I stumble and shift
While Jesus reminds me He won’t let me drift
Too far from the shore, well aware of the crowd

Specks of dust flaunt and linger in sunlight
Why after all these years do I now detest half-and-half
Heavy and thick the push of His rod and the pull of His staff
With no light of its own is the moon a sunrise at midnight
Though sweet morsels became Hansel and Gretel’s sour plight
While birds of the air ate sumptuously the crumbs
Sown in the silvery mist of the luminous sun
Death comes to all witches I’m safe from all fright

Linked to dversepoets.com and to Linda Kruschke Paint chip poetry. 5 octaves, one written weekly in October, now brought together as one complete poem. I used at least 2 of the paint chip words each week. I feel my poem is still incomplete, but isn’t that true of all poems?