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...
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!