There’s a barren beauty to the late year –

a sleeping beauty

a quiet life that whispers –

before the crescendo of spring

 

a patient pulse

that the busy mind would find –

idle

 

but for all our hurried hours –

our surface sprint –

 

it is this dark earth –

these frozen veins –

that carry promise

 

a still life –

is still life

 

a necessary slow –

that quickens time –

 

a remind

that now is then and then is past

 

neither a heady summer

nor a faded fall –

will last

 

 

 

This is part of a new series called “Poetry Plates” that I may turn into a book…

If you appreciate the work that I do, please consider becoming a patron. All my work is funded via patreon and grassroots organizers.