has quietly stepped in
like a late congregant
summer passed
this year
with little notice;
the emotion of it
never once being fully realized
too much heaviness
too much grey
it is a relief almost
that I can no longer be
by the lack of
what might have been
There is hope
in every new season
and I now find comfort
in handknit sweater vests
and wool socks
these things I can be sure of
I will pull from
the garden
the vines that never
bore fruit
and wait to see what
nature brings
She is always
moving as She should
even if I fail
to notice Her
…this season I will
find the time to know Her

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