Summer’s Departure

Summer’s Departure 

Tap, tap, tap…the rain caresses 
the skylight glass. Its tender touch
dances with the roof before I notice the 
plop, plop, plopping on the earth outside. 
Like drowsiness upon waking, 
the pitter patter muffles 
through the double panes and insulation. 

With summer’s departure, my bones 
are brittling. The Harvest moon already came 
& lit up the night sky. The frost on the grass 
has given her warning.  My thick cotton sweater & 
warm wool socks wrap me 
in a reassuring hug. 

I sit on the leather chair in the living room,
my feet propped on the ottoman.
The spruce tree outside 
the window sways in autumn’s 
wind, her limbs dancing with
gratitude at earth’s saturation. 

The coffee with its chocolaty beans 
and velvety cream is rich as it moves 
through me, saving me from thoughts 
of winter’s arrival, bringing me to 
now, where I am
warm and soft as a blanket. 

I wrote this poem in the early fall of 2020. This year we are having record warmth and summer is lingering, although I know it will not be long before the words of this poem are truth again.

the bed of my being

snow on Pine Ridge Road
the bed of my being 

i feel the magic 
of the falling snow 
blanketing me 
into the bed of my being
where I rest
in the hushed world 

Sometimes when it’s hot out, it’s fun to fantasize about nature’s cooler days.

Gazing on tall pines

Pines in Iowa.jpg

Gazing on tall pines

I sit in the big white chair
snuggled in the fuzzy warmth
of the blanket my mother-in-law gave me
when I had breast cancer.

I gaze upon the tall pines
standing outside the living room window
and I wonder…

What do they see
from their little patch on our front lawn?
At times, do they look within
to find their strength and resilience?
How often do they take comfort together
and need each other for support?
Are they mesmerized by the beauty
of the evening sky aglow at sunset?
At night, do they fall asleep
to the music of the moon?
When they wake to the morning light,
do they long for someone to see and love them?


Sitting in the chair, contemplating the trees inspired me to finally get a copy of The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, which I am now reading with fascination. It’s fun to explore something I’d never given much thought, to open my mind to something so much bigger and beyond myself.


* One winter I took this photo from the middle of the my street. It shows the pines that I see through the living room window.