Friday, September 19, 2014

Gorge-us: An Autumn Equinox Poem

© 2014 by Joyce Mason

Trees so stuffed
they spit acorns
at my innocent bystander house.
Squirrels hit the jackpot,
gather their winnings
for winter feasts in hidden dreys.

Oaks aren’t the half of it.
Maples scream red-oranges.
Quaking aspens strike so much gold;
they quiver.

I worry, long after Virgo,
that I’ll never be able
to sort or digest
such blazing beauty--
colors, food, richness
busting out all over--
to find its nugget of truth.

Yet in my basket
from the farmer’s market
lies evidence of miracles.
Just seeds in spring,
 no other analysis needed.

I look to my own life
boggled by six months' growth
with all of autumn
still to gorge on.


Photo Credit: © pilipphoto -

Want my outlook for Autumn? Read Autumn 2014: The Heart of Beauty on the Harmonic Concordance Blog.

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