Thursday, November 4, 2010


Thought I'd share this lovely poem with you today...


by Jeffrey Harrison

It's a gift, this cloudless November morning
warm enough for you to walk without a jacket
along your favorite path. The rhythmic shushing
of your feet through fallen leaves should be
enough to quiet the mind, so it surprises you
when you catch yourself telling off your boss
for a decade of accumulated injustices,
all the things you've never said circling inside you.

It's the rising wind that pulls you out of it,
and you look up to see a cloud of leaves
swirling in sunlight, flickering against the blue
and rising above the treetops, as if the whole day
were sighing, Let it go, let it go,
for this moment at least, let it all go.


Joan Sandford-Cook said...

Simply beautiful - words and rhythms - reflecting my recent effort at painting glorious autumn leaves from my village.

RHCarpenter said...

I'm pleased that you enjoyed this poem, Joan. I enjoy finding work that reflects the seasons, etc.