Friday, December 11, 2009

Poetry Friday: "Equinox"

I've missed the last few Poetry Fridays, but am hoping to find my way back to them. My soul just feels more right when I pause to feed it poetry every now and then, you know?

In any case, this is one of my very favorite poetic discoveries of the last few years. To me, it carries a melancholy and reflectiveness that fits perfectly with the mood that fall often brings as it sweeps in past summer, carrying us toward winter whether we want to go there or not. And although it's most definitely wintry in NYC this week, until just recently, it's felt like an extended autumn. So I'm hoping it's not too late in the season to share this poem, because it's so lovely that I didn't want to wait until all the way to next year to do so.

Take a deep breath before you begin reading--maybe even (as I always do when I read it) think for a minute of those "rare visitors" who have altered the chemistry of your world with their blazing entrances and leavings--and then soak this one in deep.

by Patricia Hooper

Clouds go over. The maples flare again.
In the garden the last bright asters
blaze in the autumn air
the way my skin burned
when you turned to me
in the chill breeze off the lake.

The days are cool, now,
the nights are deep, and long.
At the feeder a red-winged blackbird
has come in from the fields
and sorts among the seeds.
A rare visitor--
even if he finds what he wants,
he'll never stay here.

These are the last days.
Already the stalks of lilies
have withered, and the gold petals
of the rose melt on the grass.
But the sky flames, more intense.
I didn't see it coming.
For the few days you were here with me,
all the familiar warnings disappeared.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009


And...I'm off! To Monterey, CA for the Big Sur Children's Writing Workshop, which is put on by the fab agents of Andrea Brown Literary Agency.

This picture is courtesy of Google, and the words "Monterey, CA," so I'm not sure if it will actually look like this, or if I'll be anywhere this near to the Pacific, but right now, I'm choosing to believe so!

Cross your fingers that I meet some amazing writers with some equally amazing manuscripts this weekend! Oh, and you should probably cross your fingers that I actually decide to come back home to NYC, too, because if it does look like that, well--I make no promises!