Posted in Creations, Desert Life

And the wheel turns

It’s a quiet thing, fall,

as the roar and riot of summer fades;

in the hush you can hear yourself think again;

you can see things more softly

in the slanted light of a retiring year.

We put away summer clothes

and summer dreams that turned out to be

out of season, after all,

pulling out sweaters and sweet memories

to insulate us on long nights,

longing nights filled with

wistfulness, wood smoke,

and a tentative peace:

the only kind there is.

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Author:

I've been doing some form of creative writing since 9th grade, and have been a blogger since 2003. Like most bloggers, I've quit blogging multiple times. But the words always come back, asking to be written down, and they pester me if I don't. So here we are. Thanks for reading.

5 thoughts on “And the wheel turns

  1. Dude, that so fits how I’m feeling these days as the seasons morph. And whether intended or not, you conjured up feelings of aging… the metamorphasis from young adult to retiree.

    1. That poem started out as a prose piece that just went nowhere. I wasn’t capturing the feeling that I really wanted to convey about how fall makes me feel, and this fall, in particular, right now. So I chucked it and went with this instead. The fact that it spoke to you so clearly makes me feel like I accomplished what I wanted to.

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