Monday, November 30, 2015

The mists
My favorite place to hide
The silver skin
I revel in
And breathe the beads
Of glistening air
And let the dewdrops
Jewel my hair
They take me in
And drop the veil
And I’m alone
Within the day
You may pass by
I won’t be there
We’re thick as thieves
The mist and I

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Sunday, November 29, 2015

It is an outlaw day
The winds are high
On charging steed
With whips and spurs
They tumble weeds
And skitter leaves
Into a fearful frenzied

And bandit shots ring
From the wood
And brigand bullets
Into an emptiness
Where once a doe-eyed
Settler stood
To rob the forest of it’s

And I can only hope
The sheriff’s nigh
And with a posse wind
Will chase these rustlers
And ride them
Out of town
Into another county

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Sometimes there are no words
They fail and fall too short
Of what unfolds before my eyes
And I was at a loss in heralding
This morning’s sunrise
In pastel
Shades more brilliant
Than their name
But just a glimpse was I allowed
A glint of gold leaf edge
Of cloud
A hint of whispered masterpiece
Beyond my realm
And sky as thick as heavy cream
Was shrouding all but one small
Beam that wouldn’t be contained
And as it slowly dawned
Upon my morning mind I knew
That I was seeing through
And being granted just a little gleam
Of  heaven

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Friday, November 20, 2015

The morning has a filtered lens
To soften harsh November grey
A blurring of the sharper edge
A misting of the brooding day
Like satin robe
In truffle hue
The day slips over dormant bed
And lingers there in pearls of dew
To jewel every drooping head
Of Aster
Rose and Goldenrod
That worshipped summer til the end

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Photo by Ingrid Mathews

Blue sky
We are friends
We know things

Like how the wind can grieve 

How branches etch 
A sketch unseen

How birds traverse
To somewhere else

How sun grows bold
Like Mayan gold

How rain begins
With just a tear and 

How the weeping world
Can clear

We know the earth
The treetop
And the cloud

And every thought between

Sara Mathews    November 2015

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

I see your silhouettes
Stretch out
Ahead of me by city block
As shadows stroll
And night winds talk
And make me strain to hear
If this is really you
Or glimpses of a future
Where I’m not there
To follow you
And sidewalks roll
Me toward a distance
That cannot be crossed
What have I lost
But days
The sweetness
Cannot be regained
And lullabies
Of soft caressing breezes
Brush my cheek
Where one tear lies

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Saturday, November 14, 2015

I like to look uphill
A set of steps that climbs the
Neighbor’s bank
Brings back to mind
My other view that
My farmhouse
In the back
Where apples grew
And gentle hill rose up
To ultimately meet with sky
Where old and teetering
Granite wall strolled by
Where flags of white would
And disappear
And rows of wild turkeys
Tracked and doubled back
And tallest pines were towers
To the rook
And beeches shook
Like castanets upon the breeze
That blew an airy song across my hill
And hawks soared high
Surveying with a glittering eye
Where in the spring the wild violets splashed
An errant path and
Blued the grass
And cottage roses rung
A wreath around the boulders
Much too heavy to have joined the wall
But gracefully
Cascaded down in waterfall of stone
As summer droned with
Lassoing lazy
Hazy afternoons
And evening sparked with fireflies
Encircling the glowing dark
In constellations on the hill
Until the morning bloomed
In nets of finest lace
Where spiders caught the tiny stars of dew
And every fall
The oak trees spread their giant
Parasols of gold
And squirrels raced up and down the bark
With fat cheeks filled
To beat the cold
And when the winter lay like eiderdown
The dainty deer steps danced
And looped around
And foxes like a copper streak
Ran quick across the snow
With someplace warm to go
And north wind crooned
In soulful sighs
And long goodbyes
Beneath the chilly moon

I miss it all
I like to think it misses me
The owl who cast his old man shadow
On the hill
And cooed his vespers solemnly

I hear him still…

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Friday, November 13, 2015

Day begins
Day begun
Arid rain
And sunless sun
Shadows hung
On shade-less trees
Unfurling on the windless breeze
Cloudless mist
Of things undone
And loveless notes
Of songs unsung
Silent words
And wordless pleas
Like whitecap wave
On storm-less seas

Sara Mathews    November 2015

Thursday, November 12, 2015

It’s not a summer sky
The blue is bluer
In October
It swallows me in
Jewel sea
And clouds are not a summer cloud
Their bergs are brighter
And sculptured in the purest
Snowy white
And flame of maple
Scarlett bough
And oaken gold
Spin round
And dizzy me with flair
My breath is not a summer breath
But truer
And me
In all my elements

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

What winds have brought you
Cold and swift
To gather all the remnant leaves
That clung for one last lilt of breeze
To twist and turn and catch the light
In amber gold
And fiery coal
Like trumpet’s blare
You blast the trees
And bare the last
Of branch and bough
And off you go with spinning leaves
Like conquered memories in tow

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Monday, November 9, 2015

I wonder who named you
It doesn’t seem fitting
It doesn’t do you justice
It leaves out
Your calm demeanor
You hop with dignity
And serene disposition
You’re not all hyper like a frog
Or slippery
It fails to describe
Your companionable ways
We sit together on the step
To watch the darkness settle in
And ponder life
I wonder at your name
You wonder
Why I talk to Toads…
But you seem to like my company
And our evening reverie

Sara Mathews     November 2015
Photo by Ingrid Mathews

You wrote it in the sand
The winter shoreline held our gaze
As hours slipped into the sea
There wasn’t  more
That one could need
A simple seat
A warm embrace
The ocean wave to meditate
And rocks that strolled into the surf
Made you say
This is where I’m meant to be today
And islands floated near and
Ebbed away in different shapes of
Where our future lay
A lighthouse wakened on our watch
As gulls wheeled by
And tide was drawn to our content
And sidled up to be with us
Affirming our departing scripture 
In the sand

~We are enough~

Sara Mathews     November 2015

Sunday, November 8, 2015

A mermaid cries upon the glass
Like raindrops on the sea
She holds her head in desperate hands
And mirrors back to me
A saddest tale
In mist and fog
On rocky ledge of day
She sits within the frame of thought
And weeps the world away

Sara Mathews    November 2015

Thursday, November 5, 2015

I almost didn’t walk
The night was damp and raw
That pressing dark that
Holds you to your house
Like stepping in would be a chance
At first I was Pinocchio
And swallowed in the whale
But then the slightest gleam of wet
And silvery way emerged beneath my
Feet and I was drawn into the soft
Vignette of streetlamp meeting rain
I was alone in name alone
And night became my aura like a frame
And painted me in watery tones into
A swirled Van Gogh
Or shimmering Monet

Sara Mathews       November 2015

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Ah, to be left to my own devices
What luxury is this
As dust lays languid
And dishes pile
In unwashed bliss
The doorbell rings
To no avail
The laundry loves it’s heap
And I am squirreled within my den
My thoughts unkempt
Are mine to keep

Sara Mathews    November 2015