Oh, Barbara. Nailing it again. Reminding us that time "slides though our hands like a rope of silk."
The past two mornings when I went outside to walk it was cold. Cloudy. Windy. Not one of the 59-degree-perfect-fall-mornings I long for all year (and have recently savored.) It was, instead, the kind of chill that wallops you with seasonal change. Just a few days ago it was shorts weather. Suddenly? Time slipped again. It's mid-October.
Hold it, I told myself, savor it, remember how quickly it all slips away — the shorts-weather days, the cloudy, windy ones, the perfection, and the mess. It's all impossibly beautiful.
And Now it’s October
by Barbara Crooker
the golden hour of the clock of the year. Everything that can run
to fruit has already done so: round apples, oval plums, bottom-heavy
pears, black walnuts and hickory nuts annealed in their shells,
the woodchuck with his overcoat of fat. Flowers that were once bright
as a box of crayons are now seed heads and thistle down. All the feathery
....
(Read the rest here.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Poetry Friday round-up this week is being hosted by
Photo courtesy of Pixabay.
19 comments:
Thanks for this gem from Barbara Crooker, Karen. She has a lovely way with words.
The bitter sweetness of it...I know it's about autumn...but it feels so much more about aging to me. I love that word, anneal. Thank you for sharing this poem. It's one to keep close.
Rose, she's so good, isn't she?
Linda, yes. Totally, completely, 100% agree. "Nothing can stopper time."
Yes to savoring! It's so easy to rush along from one thing to the next...thank you for Barbara's poem and for all you bring our community! xo
Irene, thanks, and right back atcha! xo
Ah Karen, thank you. Lovely poem … Not to scare anyone but — we are only six weeks from Thanksgiving and the first Sunday in Advent. I mean, I'm thrilled! What with Autumn and Advent being my favorites🥰… our windchill is down in the 30s today and we have freeze warning …
Gorgeous poem! Every line, every image is swoon-worthy. "Nothing can stopper time . . . At night, the moon’s restless searchlight sweeps across the sky." Who else writes like that? Wow.
Lovely poem that captures the subtle changes signaling a new season. I liked how the title ran right into the first line- all one sentence. Clever!
The last comment was mine :) Cathy Stenquist
Gorgeous! I'm a little nervous about Elli's comment. Six weeks from Thanksgiving! *gulp*
Karen, the poem you chose for this week, is full of beauty and wisdom. "Nothing can stopper time..." love this line from Barbara Crooker.
Oh this opening image: "the golden hour of the clock of the year". Thank you for sharing this perfect poem.
I can love just the title alone! But "grasses shine in the slant of light" -- this must be autumn everywhere, even in my desertscape. :)
* elli, eeeek! My favorites too, but coming so fast! (Lol!)
* Jama, there's no one like her.
* Cathy, Crooker is so good, isn't she?
* Tab, I'm gulping too. :D
* Carol, yes, me too. Love everything about this poem.
* Jone, I agree it's perfect!
* Patricia, yes to the title, and to the universal appeal.
All I have to say is: today this poem made me cry. In a good way, mostly.
Oh, Heidi, I get it — the crying, the good way, the "mostly."
I love this poem (and almost everything else Barbara Crooker writes) so SO much.
ME TOOOOO!
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