Monday, September 6, 2010

In Summer's last light.

In Summer's Last Light

In the tired slant of summer's
last light
edging through
an open door
she sits and waits
for autumn
leaves
falling

falling into piles
of red and gold
and burnished copper
dreams
discarded
drifting

drifting down
upon remembrances
of summer
long ago
lost

lost
in a tangled web
of hopes and dreams
where youth
was spent
living out upon the edges
of red hot
footprints
dancing

dancing
in the waves
crashing back into
the sands of time
passing

passing
down

down through the years
of promised time
to love
and dream
and fall
in wild abandon
into happily ever after.

In summer's last light
she sits
waiting

waiting
patiently
hands folded

folded
still
upon her lap
sifting time
through
gnarled fingers
tested by time
aching

aching
for rest
her limbs
holding
vainly
to a leaf
yet to fall.

I didn't know I would write this poem this morning. I was reading my Blog List and saw the photo "Barn Door" Nancy posted at her amazing site, "Ballyhoo Hobnob Crossroads" (in my Blog List it's 'Poems and Prayers') and suddenly, the words fell from my fingertips, just like late summer's light through the open barn door of Nancy's photo.

Get inspired this morning -- check out Nancy's post, Late Summer with the photo Barn Door -- it's beautiful.

Thank you Nancy for the inspiration.

4 comments:

Maureen said...

I agree with you about Nancy's image. She has a great eye.

I like how you've written this lovely verse, so that as we read we experience, too, the changing, the light letting go, the waiting.

S. Etole said...

Both her photo and your poem are beautiful ... and poignant.

drw@bainbridge.net said...

Yup, I saw -- and loved -- that photo, too. Love your poem even more: it reminds me of something that happened yesterday. I belong to a group of community singers; we perform at local nursing homes, just songs everyone knows; nothing fancy. Yesterday we were at a larger home than usual, 3 performances on 3 floors, and an additional performance in the room of a 90-something year old Asian woman who had been a concert pianist in Japan. She was flat on her back, very thin, very old, covered only by a quilt, but she directed us as we sang "Amazing Grace" and tears came to her eyes. Her face... ah, her face was just beautiful, skin stretched so tight over amazing bones, and a gorgeous smile. Amazing grace indeed...

n. davis rosback said...

what pictures i see
as i move through this
like a song
that
i didn't know
that i would
see today

something wonderfully
unerving about those
things that come and
pass and changing
through people and
coming back again.

like the photo
that i happened to
click...and a few words...
which you see and
then these words that
are so cool..

anyway
thanks