Poem for early November

Many of the things I loved when I was younger, I still love--
split-rail fences,
yellow leaves from the walnut tree coming down in bunches,
and my dog lifting his face in joy to the breeze.

When I was younger, I loved older women;
some of them loved me back,
kissed me,
called me,
let me in their front doors.
I still love the same kind of woman,
it's just that they aren't older anymore.

As October turns to November, and I go out walking past the wooden fences
and beneath the tall, changing trees,
I realize that it's true--
the child is mother to the woman,
and I still love so many of the same things I did when I was young.
There are names that I love to speak,
faces that I look for in a crowd.

When I was younger, I loved older women--
I still love the same kind of woman,
but now,
I am older than she is.
No matter, as long as there are
autumn days like this,
some time to enjoy them,
and that something in her voice that lets me know
that, despite the season,
her door will stay open until I get there.
_______

 

Comments

  1. Here is a soul that has found an inner peace, and joy in the things which abide throughout a lifetime: the security of a picket fence neighborhood, the loyalty of a dog, the ability to love and be loved in return, and the appreciation of the turning of seasons as the years go by. Why would one not want one's world to be like this forever?

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  2. For you? A door will remain open.

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  3. the child IS mother to the woman, that is for sure.

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  4. This made me feel a kind of peace, a sigh for the love I've come into at times and that sustains me even now. I love continuance, certainty, constancy, love. I enjoyed the wording, pacing and calm of this poem. And its song.

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  5. you've conveyed a voice that is aware without weariness, sensitive but not maudlin ~

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  6. In this world, what other peace is there but the peace inside each of us that comes with knowing ourselves, loving ourselves, and trying to love others. November to me suits this poem perfectly, and vice versa.

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  7. November is perfect for this poem = not tired, not worn, slowly vibrant with the ability to still blush. :) Lovely.

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  8. Yeah... I liked older women as well!
    And now they are REALLY old!!!

    I get your drift Shay...:-)

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  9. time really shifts our perspective… this is beautiful.

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  10. Oh, how lovely. Especially that the door will stay open. Beautiful. Love the image of Bosco raising his head to the breeze, especially now as he is feeling autumn rather than seeing it, the dear boy.

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  11. Beautiful. I like this poem's circular pattern. Interesting to think about...

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  12. Funny how the more things stay the same the more they change. Sort of.

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  13. Love the feeling of walking slowly in peace and quiet happiness. And the door seems to finally suggest a little more beyond.

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  14. Gorgeous poem, and haunting song. I knew that song when it was originally done...But now I can't remember who did it...

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  15. There seems to be a trend tonight dealing with fond memories. To tell you the truth, it's making me smile!

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  16. When I opened the post, I was in awe of the painting...gorgeous...and I looked at it for a while...did you paint it ? or is is it a photo that has been created. No matter...it is a wonderful introduction to your poem.

    The poem is wonderful and has a wonderful feeling to it that begs for it to be savored and re-read.

    Peace
    Siggi

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  17. oooooh! this gave me shivers!

    Lesley Duncan is one of Ainsley's favorites. {smile}

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  18. There are names I love to speak ...the peace that comes with love is deep. I like your self awareness and the endearing self it describes.

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  19. Your words flow directly to my heart & bones. XXx

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  20. How beautiful that you have found your peace...we live, we love, we age, but the heart is eternal.

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  21. how lovely ... peace embraceable peace

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  22. It's poems like these, written by women like you, that almost make me regret that I'm straight! Honestly, such a well-rounded view of the progression of a woman from girl to... "that age," mine being 57.

    Lovely and sensual, Shay. Peace, Amy

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