The Harvest Moon
Deer repose, content beneath gnarled apple trees
surrounded by overripe, bruised apples,
content as they digest their bounty.
A doe is alert as three fawns, still speckled, lie beside her,
curled and fast asleep in the small, neighborhood orchard.
Fright and flight animals, yet today she's still,
keeps watchful eyes upon me and my dogs,
perhaps the sugar and sun a bit of a drug.
We enter the tree line; red leaves, some orange,
dot and scatter themselves on forest floor;
puppy reminds me of the wonder as he pounces,
misses, resumes the chase.
Squirrels chatter, birds chirp, crows caw
as we disrupt tranquility, the Blue Ridge path ripe
with the first rays of Autumn's gold.
My boots have replaced sandals
and a knitted scarf drapes my neck, loosely;
more a nod to the coming chill than necessity.
Dappled light dances before us, and I remember
last night as my husband and I walked hand in hand,
moon where the sun is now, tree branches
silhouetted above us, the bright glow a beacon,
chapel-like, reminding us of promises made long ago;
...and before me now the puppy scampers,
his young life stirring up worn out, tired leaves,
learning from them, stirring them, giving them new life;
much like our children, giving us purpose,
a new outlook, if we accept the challenge.
At our age, we have a tendency to mull things over,
ponder, be watchful as we consider consequences,
absorb the world through our children's eyes;
much like the doe I saw earlier, and wonder
did we pass her last night on our walk through the trees
beneath the Harvest Moon?
by Margaret Bednar, October 1, 2020
This is linked with "Poets and Storytellers United - Weekley Scribblings #39 - October Thrills"
10 comments:
I really love this stanza:
"My boots have replaced sandals
and a knitted scarf drapes my neck, loosely;
more a nod to the coming chill than necessity."
It's a word-picture of autumn: the boots, the scarf, the hint of cold... all remind us that winter isn't here (yet).
A beautiful poem, Margaret .... the moon last night took my breath away. I love that you and your husband walk together, hand in hand ... PS (I smell the goodness in your iron skillet)
This is a beautiful read, Margaret. Brings memories, young granddaughters and puppies disturbing the last rest of the leaves, boots exchanging sandals. Our youngest was in London her first five years and we were privileged to be there in the fall when she kicked leaves and walked on the stone fence tops. We keep sandals until a bit in December and keep then handy for a warm day, lots of them in February along the Gulf Coast.
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Oh yes, the Moon is brilliant tonight. Harvest, red, and full, make up our first of the October blue moons.
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What a wonderful scene you conjure up!
Very romantic. Thanks for dropping by my blog today
Muchđź’“love
What a marvelous poem. You skillfully allowed us to have an autumn walk with you and the puppy, and liked it to family and children in the closing stanza. A thorough joy to read!
You have created an atmosphere of intimacy contentment fulfillment and blessedness
in your poem...beautiful autumn evening walk under the harvest moon
Oh yes, there are plenty of does and their little ones around here this time of year. Seeing them more often comes along with the other October wonders. May more sweet reminiscences and new cherished memories be made for you this October.
What a delightful poem. Visiting and being part of the wild world is always a beautiful experience.
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