My Chicago Home

My Chicago Home
How can we best live as modern, active contemplatives where prairie meets city?

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Season's End

"Hanging the Laundry Out to Dry" by Berthe Morisot
National Gallery of Art. 
This image is in the public domain because its copyright has expired. 
Courtesy of Wikipedia

Season's End
By Marianna Bartholomew

It's sweater weather 
says the voice on the radio 
and stepping outside
is like walking off a cliff into fall.

The air snaps
like freshly-hung laundry.

You see a cardinal, a female.
I pinch shriveled blooms from the rosebush 
and scatter petals like confetti.

The grass is still green
but looks uncombed.
The garden crunches underfoot
like stale toast.

I pull my jacket tighter
over skin still peeling from our day at the dunes.
Was it just last week?

The waves were like hedges
rolling and green.
We vaulted over them for hours
then rode them to shore.

There were clouds then, too
but harmless puffs
like lamb's wool.

The clouds today are flannel.

Thought I'd share this poem I wrote as a newly-wed, in my 20's...Just for the love of words!