The Dew is On the Pumpkin
by Joyce Gullickson (Texas)
Source: Bridges (2002) p.
I awoke this morning
to the smell of change
in the crisp of November air
Outside the window
a red rose blooms
in defiance of hoar frost
a spider's web glistens
decorated by drops of iridescence
November's cold indifference
is not so easily affected
The pumpkin seeds planted too late
have leafed into vine
and a tiny melon, glistens
like a premature infant
Too soon the dew is on the pumpkin
Too soon a chill is in the air
Draw closer
Inhale deeply
Savor this moment
It will not come again
-------------------
Approaching Storm
by Joyce Gullikson (Texas)
Source: Bridges (2002) p.33
Lightning flashes in the distance
streaking silver through steely gray skies
as thunder rumbles ever closer
an ominous drum roll
foreshadowing future darkness
I watch a scrawny blackbird
edging closer, warily alert
hoping for a handout
I have nothing to give
The breeze, felt but not seen
trembles the leaves of a nearby ash
the subtle hiss like the swish of an old woman's skirt
breaking the silence of a funeral procession
While nearby an ancient oak stands at attention
honoring the passing of light into darkness
Two children cry in unison
protesting a halt to their play
As the wind strengthens
the family hurriedly gathers
knowing the storm won't be outrun.
------------------
Copyright (c) 2005 to Joyce Gullickson.
Available in print edition.
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