Lake Hebron in Fall

Lake Hebron in Fall
Lake Hebron in Fall

October 10, 2026

Autumn Sings


In the silence that is autumn,

a small voice, barely heard

‘neath a fading summer phlox,

still sings in my garden the songs

of the seasons ahead, songs of hope

and of life, songs of peace, songs of love.


October 3, 2026

[Untitled]

The leaves that blanket my yard

have turned it into a quilt of varied colors,

patterns, a tapestry of tales from other autumns

carried down through the years to today;

and what stories would you share

to make us smile and lighten our days

in this time signifying dormancy and loss,

as we wrap the covers around us to stay warm,

safely held together by the memories we hold

and the stories we share?


September 26, 2026

Loons Departing

The young ones are still here, grown

from their nests over the summer months

into newly fledged juveniles preparing to leave,

their wings newly tested and ready for the journey

following the routes and instincts of their parents,

bound for the coast; we will mourn their eerie cries

missing from our winter lives, snowbound here,

replaced by silence and the low moans

carried by the winds howling at our door.


September 19, 2026

Mortality

My new-found companion and I have begun

our fated journey, melded one to the other,

following the signs and symptoms of blood and bone

to that journey’s end, an indeterminate finality,

a journey we must take together, friends or foes,

ready or not, to its end; only then, will the fates release us

as they joined us, restored, renewed, and a new journey

beginning, a yet unknown journey you cannot take –

you must take your own journey, each of you, each of us –

so wish us well, and yourself, safe travels, wishes

for the wind at your back, the sun on your face, soft rain,

and God to hold you in his palm, until we meet again;

may our journeys by fruitful and safe.