out to the pond and back, along a well-traveled path,
cutting through a tidy row of houses to see
what waterbirds have stopped on their flight south,
Canada geese most likely or a few ducks,
anonymous and a little lost and lonely.
The weeds have shifted into a riot of color,
a last gasp before true winter, their seeds floating
as free as any bird, clumps of white from reeds,
the sharp yellow-orange of poppies and
purple blooms of lupin beg to be remembered
when the snow comes.
what waterbirds have stopped on their flight south,
Canada geese most likely or a few ducks,
anonymous and a little lost and lonely.
The weeds have shifted into a riot of color,
a last gasp before true winter, their seeds floating
as free as any bird, clumps of white from reeds,
the sharp yellow-orange of poppies and
purple blooms of lupin beg to be remembered
when the snow comes.
On the way home, a Little Free Library makes us stop
at this bounty: Take a book or leave one
for others to enjoy. A simple gift well matched
by a new sign taped on the side of the library:
“Love Thy Neighbor: No Exceptions.”
I sigh. Every neighbor? No exceptions?
I know the couple who live here: A retired minister.
His gracious wife. I could live next door to them.
I would not choose to live near the White House.
Perhaps some things we cannot choose.
When all else fails, I will try to remember
their wisdom: “Love Thy Neighbor. No Exceptions.”
at this bounty: Take a book or leave one
for others to enjoy. A simple gift well matched
by a new sign taped on the side of the library:
“Love Thy Neighbor: No Exceptions.”
I sigh. Every neighbor? No exceptions?
I know the couple who live here: A retired minister.
His gracious wife. I could live next door to them.
I would not choose to live near the White House.
Perhaps some things we cannot choose.
When all else fails, I will try to remember
their wisdom: “Love Thy Neighbor. No Exceptions.”
Ah, to love thy neighbour. Easy enough when they are the ducks or those who believe in love thy neighbour. I love the concept of love thy neighbour, but really for me it comes back to treat others like you would want to be treated. I don't think it is possible to love all our neighbours, but I know I can treat them how I would want to be treated. Oh my, my little rant. Enjoyed your poem, I felt like I was standing there by the pond!
ReplyDeleteThank you! Actually, I was worried this 'poem' slid into a rant too, but it was pretty darn late and I wanted to post a 'poem' for yesterday. Thank you, as always, for stopping by and for forgiving my rant!
DeleteWonderful poem Beth. You capture the true almost silent and peaceful essence of Fall. "a last gasp before true winter." WOW, pithy and beautiful. And YES, I can see that. Fall is one of my favorite times of year. But I do have other favorites, each season brings its own beauty. AND... "Love your neighbor, no exceptions." Pithy as well. It knocks me out of my comfort zone. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThank you, oh unknown reader, but I think I know who you are! These days, we're all a little knocked out of our comfort zones. Yes, each season brings its own beauty. Why do I sometimes dread winter?
DeleteBeautiful images in this poem...Autumn has a sadness about it...the purple lupins dreading the coming of the snow.
ReplyDeleteI am suprised you dont want the Trumps as neighbours.Just imagine all the fun you could have with Melania leafing through glossy magazines, searching for a new hairstyle for Donald.:)