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[Scenic Alpine Loop in Provo Canyon] |
Autumn is my favorite season.
I can feel it slipping away, though, and all the pumpkins on my porch are starting to rot.
Bother.
So my tribute to fall is a little overdue, perhaps, but here it is. In the form of a poem my little brother, Ethan (who just turned 9 last week) wrote. It is surprisingly wise:
[The assignment was to write a fall-themed poem with each line starting with a letter of "FALL." But he had more to say, so he expanded it to say "FALLING"]
Farewell to green
And good-morning colors
Let's have some fun
Let's jump in piles
It's fall alright
Now it's time to say goodbye
Goodbye fall
And here's a poem by me, slightly less wise, but brought about entirely by a walk to school on a beautiful fall day.
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[magic picnic in Sundance] |
I will skip class to read Robert Frost
In a halo of yellow leaves,
slightly shivering in the early light
of what promises to be
A golden afternoon.
It’s just that sort of day.
Today I’ll remove my soft leather
moccasins
and my dark denim jeans, molded
precisely to the shape of my hips
and thighs.
They’ll flutter to the ground
like a piece of gently torn tissue paper-
two flapping legs.
My braided hair will untwist itself,
pins shooting out like
porcupine quills
and
falling slowly to the earth
as waxy red leaves.
Off will fly my cable knit cardigan
(the color of forget-me-nots),
Followed eagerly by scarf,
earrings,
blouse,
bra.
Today I’ll stand, naked and glowing,
In the pale autumn sun.
Just me and Robert.
And everyone who passes
Will wonder-
At the transcendent orb of metaphor
And olive skin (steadily growing pinker)
That bounds between the branches
And bursts into the sky-
A shower of amber beams. Rivulets
Of light.
Everyone will wonder, as the drops
cascade from their noses,
but soon they will see (they can’t help but see)
that it’s just that sort of day.
Today they will see
and free
me.
It’s just that sort of day.
Goodbye fall,
Banana