Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Morning After My Fifty Year Reunion

South of Fayetteville, NC
October 8, 2017

A soft rain bathes the dry pines of Carolina
as I drive down a Southern road
into another autumn.

Farewell old loves. 
You spoke your truths, and I
shared mine. The world bleeds for something new. 

Cloudless Sulphurs flutter over brown fields,
across winding back roads, onto
goldenrod shoulders.

Goodbye, perhaps 
forever. It is, after all, autumn; 
for some, their last now fades to sepia.

The sun will still sparkle from roadside puddles
and woodland sunflowers will shine
like a fresh van Gogh.

Friends, you rode 
the fiery horse to far-off wars, 
or wandered wild roads without a weapon. 

Today, a living mist soothes the trees.
Stubble covers sandy fields.
Soy fades to pale.

Would you tame 
the feral soul at last? Friends, 
we have striven. Soon, with grace, we yield.