Monday, November 26, 2012

After the holiday . . .

After everyone is back at work and the leftovers are gone . .

You try to be grateful for just the sun on your shoulders and  try to remember spring.


                                     And hope that everyone you love - knows it . . . .
                                       November makes it all seem more important.


Leave us something of yourself,
sweet trees, indifferent bees,
spiders wrapping up a summer’s job,
now listless in the chilly breeze.
Leave us something of yourself.

Do not forget these eyes that traced
your dewy webs and pollened toes
and watched you love the sky’s bright face
with fingertips that airily rose
to brush the clouds with leafy lace.

Leave us here believing
in the hills aglow, again,
and in a churning freshet searching
for what it cannot know,
but then, again,

It is this season’s yearnings
that foretell Spring’s bright returnings.

Catherine Wilson


Rev. Paul said...

Look at all that green grass...!

Cathy said...

Oh bless your heart, Rev. Paul

You remind me to be grateful for the things we take for granted. . .

now you've got me cryn' . . .

Thank you.

Cathy said...

PS . .

Of course . it helps that i'm also watching Ashley's return in Gone With the Wind :)

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threecollie said...

Catherine Wilson, amazing poet! And what is that guy doing out this time of year i wonder.....

Cathy said...

Marianne . . .

I'll tell her you said so :-D

Thank you .

As for Mr. Groundhog . . .he actually may be slumbering under the deck. The pix is two weeks old. His lonely posture was a very apt metaphor for my post-holiday mood.

All better now :)

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Larry said...

Nice poem but indifferent bees really stands out for me.I think I've come across a few of those.

Cathy said...

Larry. Good man. It is so pleasing to have you pick a phrase from my poem that somehow connected.

Like you . . I found the linking of those two words really worked. To hear you affirm my sense of that . . . well . . Thank you so much :)

Mary said...

When I read your words, I get lost in them. Wow Cathy.

Cathy said...

Sweet May. A poet loves to hear that nice people explored their attempts at lassoing the mystery, mayhem and joy of life . . . and emerged dazed . . . but happily unscathed :)

You are dear.

troutbirder said...

Indeed! And I absolutely loved your November Light photos...:)

Cathy said...

Oh my gosh! Troutbirder . .

Thank you so much for dropping by and leaving a smile.

I missed your comment as . . well . . things have been a little crazed.