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Seasonal Thoughts From Center Sandwich, New Hampshire

13 Nov

 In late  autumn, in-between the mountains, a sinking sun

glows bright orange. Silhouetted on ridges above the valleys —

pines, leafless maples, stark  bare oak trees.

 

I notice a single leaf wobbling

on a low birch branch near me.

I presumed, waiting on the winter wind

for her  invitation to an early frost

and a late autumn’s— evening’s fling—

 

I remember

encircling wooden posts with rusting wire fences

for a dance floor, dancing my first  winter waltz

with the chill wind, red cheeks blushing warm—

 

–Snow glistening across the meadow

Pushed through the White Mountains—

Enjoying delightful winter flakes on my tongue.

 

 

Kicking snow into white clouds announcing

my next boot’s intention 

— lest’ I slip.

 

Twirling in traditional steps of solid granite stature.

Dipping, stomping, sliding, gabbing a handful of snow

kissed, licked, and eaten cold.

 

we would play and dance to a robust measure of silent music;

then, with symphonic pause  –time for another last thought—

I would be  pushed home

 whistled in snowflake crescendo,

pulling up my collar,

 and tightening my wool hat

towards drifting wood stove smoke

and supper on the kitchen table

with a cup of hot chocolate that was perfectly warm.

 

Thoughts – as I watched,

late autumn sun setting on

my New Hampshire home.

 

I went inside with an arm full of wood.

Smiling at the leaf’s anticipation

For her first fling— as mine was

in a late autumn childhood.

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17 Comments

Posted by on November 13, 2016 in Love, New Hampshire, Pine Cone Diaries, Prose Poetry

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

17 responses to “Seasonal Thoughts From Center Sandwich, New Hampshire

  1. Suyash J

    November 13, 2016 at 12:41 pm

    “Late autumn childhood”
    Love the sound of that

    Liked by 1 person

     
  2. Sherry Marr

    November 13, 2016 at 3:51 pm

    I love the reverie as you watch the sun set, with your armload of wood, anticipating a cozy fire….sigh….lovely. What can be better?

    Liked by 1 person

     
  3. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    November 13, 2016 at 4:27 pm

    I get the same sense of nature as I get in some of Robert Frost’s poem. The image of the last leaf and the wood you carry home… lovely

    Liked by 1 person

     
  4. kaykuala

    November 13, 2016 at 8:05 pm

    For her first fling— as mine was
    in a late autumn childhood.

    It spells out the magic that one basks in when childhood stakes are enjoyed in all innocence!

    Hank

    Like

     
  5. thotpurge

    November 13, 2016 at 9:58 pm

    armful of wood and leaf having a last fling… glorious images of the season.

    Like

     
  6. oldegg

    November 14, 2016 at 12:38 am

    This is such a beautiful poem, nostalgic, child like, cold and yet warm and full memories that each reader will share in their own way.

    Liked by 1 person

     
  7. Sanaa Rizvi

    November 14, 2016 at 8:00 am

    I am literally swooning here! Beautifully written ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

     
  8. Gillena Cox

    November 14, 2016 at 10:10 am

    Wow, this is exciting, all those emotions and the nostalgia of childhood.

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person

     
  9. Gillena Cox

    November 14, 2016 at 10:11 am

    Monday WRites 83 is live
    you are invited to link in

    much love…

    Like

     
  10. Julian

    November 14, 2016 at 12:09 pm

    Wow, I so enjoyed reading your poetry.

    Liked by 1 person

     
  11. magicalmysticalteacher

    November 14, 2016 at 1:38 pm

    An armload of wood can lead to many pleasant hours of crafting poems beside the fire.

    Like

     
  12. hypercryptical

    November 14, 2016 at 2:41 pm

    Lovely lovely lovely. Late autumn childhood – mine was too!
    Kind regards
    Anna :o]

    Like

     
  13. Truedessa

    November 14, 2016 at 9:29 pm

    Ah, the seasons of life found in the embrace of an autumn leaf. This is a very beautiful poem. Stay warm by the fire 🙂

    Like

     
  14. Colleen@ LOOSELEAFNOTES

    November 14, 2016 at 9:53 pm

    Poems within poems. I expected the sun to crack like an egg.

    Like

     
  15. dsnake1

    November 15, 2016 at 5:21 am

    there is so much joy and wonder in your words today.
    i won’t know the feel of snow (poor me lived in the tropics)but i can sense the happiness in you.

    Liked by 1 person

     
    • ZQ

      November 15, 2016 at 2:43 pm

      Thank you my friend

      Like

       
  16. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    November 15, 2016 at 6:20 am

    Delightful nostalgia.I love autumn.

    Liked by 1 person

     

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