Rake Up the Leaves
by Julia W. Prentice
Rake up the leaves, pile them high
Scuffs and crunches touch my ears
As I jump down inside the musty depth
With burnt-orange, ashy sounds
Shake off the gold and brass
The red not brick or barn
Tan and golden gleaming hues
Fill full my hungry, yearning eyes
Their powdery dust pricks nose
Each sense drinks up its own
The wine of Autumn runs in my veins
The vintage aged and bold
Hand pokes inside the pile, so high
My sister searches, tickles me
I burst up and crash down again
Like beluga breaches waves
Drunk with great draughts of Fall
Stagger through the just-dead leaves
Wade through that burnt-orange dust
Each sense reeling with the swell
Autumn sounds full orchestra
Inside my mind it hums
And sings it twilight, saddest song
For all here now, soon gone.
(2002)
Julia W. Prentice: A deeply feeling Cancer, Julia has been writing since her teenage years. She is the mother of three sons, has successful careers in teaching children, interpretation in sign language and assisting persons with mental health challenges to find their own paths to recovery. Living with her love and partner of over forty years has brought contentment and much fulfillment. She writes like she breathes: incessantly, some in ragged gasps, some in whispering sighs, some in mighty shouts. Always she is driven to write. After taking a women’s online writing course she has heard the universe telling her to share her writings. You may find them on her blog "A Shooting Star" here. Additionally, she is working on her first full poetry collection.
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