
Painting by Richard Diebenkorn. The fall that I'm experiencing :)
For the past few days, we've had some gorgeous fall weather here in DC. It's been cool, sunny, and energizing, and has made me want to celebrate October, which has always been one of my favorite months.
Then this past week, the following poem came into my inbox from American Life in Poetry. I have to say that is doesn't really jive with my feelings about October thus far this year (for me, it has felt like a reverse spring of sorts--beautiful, cool in the mornings and warm in the afternoon, leaves still on the trees and flip-flops still possible for a bit longer...), but I know that this October, the one that Thompson talks about in the poem below, is right around the corner...
October
I used to think the land
had something to say to us,
back when wildflowers
would come right up to your hand
as if they were tame.
Sooner or later, I thought,
the wind would begin to make sense
if I listened hard
and took notes religiously.
That was spring.
Now I’m not so sure:
the cloudless sky has a flat affect
and the fields plowed down after harvest
seem so expressionless,
keeping their own counsel.
This afternoon, nut tree leaves
blow across them
as if autumn had written us a long letter,
changed its mind,
and tore it into little scraps.
I love the last stanza. What an amazing image.
Now I'm off to enjoy this unbelievable October day--I hope you're able to do the same!
Namaste,
Mary Catherine
Then this past week, the following poem came into my inbox from American Life in Poetry. I have to say that is doesn't really jive with my feelings about October thus far this year (for me, it has felt like a reverse spring of sorts--beautiful, cool in the mornings and warm in the afternoon, leaves still on the trees and flip-flops still possible for a bit longer...), but I know that this October, the one that Thompson talks about in the poem below, is right around the corner...
October
I used to think the land
had something to say to us,
back when wildflowers
would come right up to your hand
as if they were tame.
Sooner or later, I thought,
the wind would begin to make sense
if I listened hard
and took notes religiously.
That was spring.
Now I’m not so sure:
the cloudless sky has a flat affect
and the fields plowed down after harvest
seem so expressionless,
keeping their own counsel.
This afternoon, nut tree leaves
blow across them
as if autumn had written us a long letter,
changed its mind,
and tore it into little scraps.
I love the last stanza. What an amazing image.
Now I'm off to enjoy this unbelievable October day--I hope you're able to do the same!
Namaste,
Mary Catherine









