Wanning Gibbons Moon – Phase 6

 

 

A Frenzy Of Fall

lick and click
gurgle and chortle
chuckle of trickle
of steady stream’s travel
down through gold palms
clapping them on

dry stick knock
clock tick of season
grieving leaving
of summer’s friend

drag of stag to butt of rut
scurry of squirrel in nuts hoard
turn of grass to strawy bed
mole in his mountain curls up to sleep

sweatered sway on hard bank
longing’s gesture
in blink of lash frosted
by gasp of gone

©Carol Desjarlais 2007

Fall brings with it, to me, a sense of dread.  I do not do well in cold Canadian winters.  It is beautiful, yes, and covers seasons of sins, but I am wont to huddle and not want to go out at all.  I can feel the dread deep within.  I have decided winter is for children who will stay out longer than wet feet and frozen hands should allow.

As the moon loses its full blossom, as I put plants to bed all covered up with blankets for winter, I don layered clothing to go out and honor the moon.  It I my new nature to wake up every three hours.  I go out and check on the moon to see where she is at.  She thins.  She wanes. 

How lonely are the sounds of geese abandoning the North.  How I wish I could, as well. 

INTENTION:  Today, I will not regret the loss of summer and early Fall.  I will refuse the sense of being left behind.

©Carol Desjarlais 10.12.22