Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Sunday, October 25, 2015

#19: Sunday afternoon at Manito Park


Just this afternoon, walk with me
along this tree-graced block,
down to the Japanese gardens,
where formal plantings embrace
the turn of summer to fall.



We'll cross the bridge and turn,
surprised by colors everywhere,
the reds, greens, and yellow
shadow the water
where koi slumber.



Perhaps we'll sit for a moment 
to ponder the paths not taken.



We'll watch new mothers
with toddlers cross that bridge again,
posing against the brilliant red maple,



as if they could hold 
this moment still, 
like the last red leaves
that invite this light 
against the darkness.



Today's picture poem was inspired by a walk in Spokane's Manito Park, where the trees so quickly have transformed from summer green, to golden fall, to those precious days of color, just before the first frost, that first recognition that true winter is on its way.

I'm not writing a poem a day any more, having gratefully become immersed in writing. But please do visit OctPoWriMo to celebrate and enjoy what others have read.