The Garden of Verse: A Salute to Autumn Skies, A Fond Farewell to the Growing Season, and a Fortunately Minor Fall from Grace

My poems often have seasonal cues. This month I offer a love letter to autumn skies, a fond farewell to another growing season -- despite a less than generous helping of that essential ingredient, rain -- and an account on a near-disaster that has nothing to do with seasons but something to do with me.

Maybe a near-disaster for my body can a be a wake-up call to my brain. Here's my poem about a fall from a piece of exercise equipment caused by simply not paying enough attention to the here and now. 

After A Fall on the Treadmill at the YMCA

Is someone trying to tell me something? Someone (or thing) is taking my measure, picking its spots, as I fall flat on my face on that moving staircase People line up for their turn, the Asian mother and her very sensible little boy as I step onto the treadmill I had moments before paused (hadn’t I?), from the side, thoughts (apparently) elsewhere, and am sent flying, face-first and two bounces through the infield. Keep away from machines, a voice whispers, They’re always planning something. Someone is taking my measure. Not, I hope, for a winding suit. The numbers are in, I’m sure, the gang standing at the corner watching the traffic as the rain begins to fall, the final scene sketched on the storyboard. Take your time, boys. No need to hurry the job.

Here's the beginning of my poem about discovering,

much to my displeasure, that I'm out of touch with the phases of the

moon. It's a little like forgetting that the Earth is still

turning.

A Note to Autumn Skies

Don’t think 
you can get away with keeping it all to yourself!

So tonight, well after dark, I catch a glimpse 
through a living room window of the sky 

     above the neighbor's house 
when I’m reaching out to lower a blind,
the only gesture that would put me at the proper angle to see – 
Whoa! Is that the moon? Where has it been?
Where have we been? 
Lost in a weeks-long clouded dominion,
the misrule of the heavens?

...

Here's a link to see the rest of the poem

November 2022 Verse-Virtual

And here's an excerpt from my poem bidding farewell 

to the home gardening seasons

Time swims like the big fish
     that got away to swim again
Swiftly!
   Swiftly!
Suddenly too chilly this morning to water the plants
Verfallen? Then winter on the lip
     of tomorrow

Again, a link: November 2022 V-V 

Finally be sure to check out the "Poetic License" column by my fellow fiction writer 

and poet Robert Wexelblatt on "Thoughts About Writing."

You can find that here  Poetic License