Change in 3 Acts
Sun rises slant, and later.
House wrens huddle closer.
Purple basil’s all abuzz, squirrels
scurry, store bits of sustenance
deep in the earth, summer’s leaves
curl in colorful exhaustion.
Crickets’ mellifluous filigree fades
like dusk into night.
Balmy autumn afternoon,
I float in the blue, blue pool amid
bobbing burnished maple and birch leaves.
Overhead, spun-sugar clouds drift
in a philosophical azure sky. I am
lost to a daydream of ambiguous origins,
undulating edges, this day a gift,
accepted with gratitude.
Tonight, even the constellations
pale in the mesmerizing moonglow.
October’s full moon – Harvest Moon –
Travelers Moon – lights a path forward,
and I set out, harvesting all that’s
grown before. Live fearless! they said.
Well, how else?
by Joyce Ritchie
Editor’s Note: The rich sonics of this poem enhance the imagery of autumn, allowing the reader to fully sink into the last act’s admonishment to live fearlessly.