Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Labor Day Rain:
I kind of wonder if the edge of Frances is touching us here,
Thinking of far away friends scattered about the windy circle,
But here it's gentle rain and breezes blowing,
No hullabaloo in an unhurried morning,
Ducks on the pond and vast green view out the window,
Simply four Mallards paddling,
A little yellow tinge on leaves everywhere,
Yesterday's ride through the country as gold climbs down the soybeans,
I've thoughts of amber leaves and red and brown,
Of milkweed tufts burst free,
Of wandering the corn maze holding my wife's hand like children,
Of the passing of another year,
Amber moons with black cloud veils,
The occasional bat flying past,
Even in this season young hearts falling in love,
Caught in the hurricane of time,
Enjoying every rest of landing feet,
Yet for now the warm coffee calls me,
And Fall can wait another sleepy day.
By: Daniel A. Stafford
Fleeting thoughts, a note from one of my nieces, a morning of reading
poems after a wonderful day and night.
Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.