An All-Saints Kind of Gratitude

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I look back through Novemember’s
just-hanging-on leaves, the negative space
of our promises to drive through Malabar’s
winding road, taking in October’s blasts of color.
The weeks have whipped by, the leaves ignoring my
requests to stay, to never fall away, and my melancholy
drips bitter without the sweet.

Then I see our love’s first fruits hanging
on you, lying on you like so many apples,
our children’s morning sweetness, their bodies’
hard softness, wild hair, pokey elbows,
squishy bellies and meaty feet.  They grow
unconditionally from our branches, buds,
and blossoms.  They grow their own stems and leaves
and seeds and develop their own autumn flavors.

We drop away when we are ripe

thankful for what we are

what we have

and what we miss.

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6 responses »

  1. Love this!! There is so much here: the mood and “negative space of our promises” is wonderful; the shift to the “fruit” of children “hanging” and “laying” on the spouse is great! Laying like “so many apples” WOW!! I love all the pokey wild soft squishy and especially “meaty feet”!! These details paint the picture of all the kids laying on top dad. Nice. The take in to the children’s own lives, stems, seeds, flowers and “own autumn flavors” is fantastic. And then, and then the ending I adore. I love everything about it’… the line spacing and the way the fruit metaphor comes back again .., the ripeness, the gratitude which echoes the title; “We drop away when we are ripe” is an amazing! and tight metaphor. The growth of our lives and our children’s beings fall away when “ripe.” I find the thankfulness for what “we miss” intriguing and powerful here as well and a perfect ending.Great work Amy!! So thankful for your writing here! I have missed your poems! I love the design and photo header on your site. The writer’s prayer is inspiring and beautiful!!! All love and light your way friend!!

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