Saturday, November 11, 2017

Elegy by Linda Pastan

My witch balls, reflecting Autumn...


Our final dogwood leans
over the forest floor
offering berries
to the birds, the squirrels.
It’s a relic
of the days when dogwoods
flourished—creamy lace in April,
spilled milk in May—
their beauty delicate
but commonplace.
When I took for granted
that the world would remain
as it was, and I
would remain with it.
“Elegy” by Linda Pastan from Insomnia

1 comment:

Kelly said...

I like the way Linda Pastan (much like Mary Oliver) can connect nature to my feelings.

This is wonderful.