September 23, 2021
Season of Memory The cattail are shading to lavender; passionfruit Is passing and the berry-like kudzu blooms are forming. Fawns have lost their pearls and acorns are falling. This year, as in all previous years, I resolve to take a basket and gather to myself the beauty of my late mother's favorite season. She will want to know how bouffant are the squirrel tails, how thick the horsehair, whether the Farmer's Almanac calls for a hard winter.
From a Window Two deer, a doe and yearling, are resting -- folded up in the wet grass by a corner of fencing and overgrown privet, listening sleepily to the overtures of distant thunder. They have found in their everyday what we only experience unsought at unplanned junctures-- Peace with the angels of the earth.
More Will Be Revealed Across the dark grotto of a stump laid waste stretches a filmy web of stars -- a micro-firmament, rich with constellations of figures and myths we have yet to learn by heart.
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