Thursday, October 16, 2014



Some October, when the leaves turn gold, ask
me if I've done enough to deserve this life
I've been given.  A pile of sorrows, yes, but joy
enough to unbalance the equation.

When the sky turns blue as the robes of heaven,
ask me if I've made a difference.


The road winds through the copper-coloured woods;
no one sees around the bend.


Today the wind poured out of Canada,
a river in flood, bringing down the brilliant leaves,
broken sticks and twigs, deserted nests.
Go where the current takes you.

Some twilight, when the clouds stream in from the west
like the breath of God, ask me again.

Barbara Crooker

2 comments:

Barb said...

Hildred, What a great poem for autumn. Such universal feelings and great metaphors. Hope you're still enjoying your fall!

Sallie (FullTime-Life) said...

Isn't that the most wonderful Autumn poem? Your photos illustrate it perfectly. I have not thanked you nearly often enough for providing the link to "A Year of Being Here." I think of you every morning when I see it!