So much of the fall has already passed, but though the seasons change we cannot forget. Each poem was written in a specifically special place on campus. Here are three pieces on seasonal blues, perfect for the transition time.
At the Break of Rich Winter
Dead leaves whisper amongst themselves
Plotting their long awaited return
An annual revival, the festival of bloom
Dark wood etched with the lines of wear
Varying in color, stature, and weight
The dark ground rumbles
And the whistling wind shakes
At the break of day, the grass is still dry
And brown, and crunchy absent of dew
The sky is stark gray and lightly misted
Obscuring the kind sun from our view
In the bleak distance we see,
there is light behind the horizon
A piece of opportunity
A glimmer of hope imbued
Forest Gossip
The whispering woods in winter:
Leaves rattle with gossip
Branches wail at the wind
Squirrels fight one another
And the brown ground sighs again
No fresh flesh to replenish its soil,
No green grass to color its field
A blanket of dead mulch its cover
The white snow has melted, no longer real
In the fog, reality sets in
And sinks, and swallows to sustain
The dark truth that lies in the forest
When the ground is absent of grain
Winter Blues
I am hurt
But I can’t pin the point of entry
Night falls over me like a sheet, days rise as fast as they fall
I lay words to no avail,I spread the thick balm of suppression over my wound as if it will somehow heal what is already done.
Blanking out and blacking out I find relief
I’m ridiculed for my method of deliverance
But who can judge my pain and my measures
I cannot always
Hide behind the curtains of strength and bravery
When I’m wrapped tight in the cloth of shame and sorrow
Bring me wine to drink, yet I’ll be drunk in misery
In the clouds I sink low to the trenches, my mind blurred and my body numbed
Blurred between the pain yet distinctly aware
