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.
so touching
ReplyDeleteElegantly elegiac. Some will yield with more grace than others. Among your best.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mary. I wish you could have been at the reunion. If I remember correctly, you spoke on the topic "and not to yield" at our graduation.
DeletePrayerful and lovely. I sure hope none of us is yielding too soon. So much left to strive for . . .
ReplyDeleteCecily, you are so full of life! There is a balance between the striving and the yielding, the yin and the yang flowing in and out of the other.
DeleteAmen Cecily. We are seizing the day and yielding gracefully at the same time. Balance.
DeleteBob, the theme for our graduation was "Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow". Larry handled Today and I served up Tomorrow, batting cleanup. Hope I inspired someone. Never yielding could be the motto for Loomis Family in America. Except for the infamous horse thieves and extortionists. Watch your wallet round me.
This poem fits with your Embarkations. We are in the age of constant transitions. Thank you for expressing so well.