Fall Reckoning

by P. R. Lowe

September 6, 2020

A reckoning of fall
when all comes under the spell
of winter’s waxing
and summer splinters,
relaxing into crystal shards –
humming chords of coolness coming –
drifting and landing on small spaces,
where dragonfly faces
linger in the light
in spite of it.
We gather up the harvest –
be it real or imagined
in great skirts and aprons
of grape and saffron and green
and glean from our missteps
those things that serve
and swerve away from
those things that harm –
the alarm softly sounding in our heart,
time to part the chaff from the wheat.
We retreat again into the night
to birth the new, the good and the light.
There in peace may we be
bringing in the sun
the moon and the stars
to nourish the limbs of our tree.