Tuesday, November 22, 2016

This is my morning
My grey beginning
My heavy shawl of rain
My teardrops etching sadness
Down the pane
My heartbreak
Weighing heavy on the leaves
My birds in quiet kinship
As we grieve

Sara Mathews     November 2016

Thursday, November 17, 2016

I take joy
In the little things
Swirling cream to my coffee
Sharing toast with the cat
The roof deck where the grape vines wither
And cling to the unpicked fruit
Spicy with frost
The sun just skimming the rooftops
Tracing a last path of summer 'cross my face
I take joy in a deep full breath
Of autumn
The sharp smell of leaves wet on the walk
Their last hurrah
The crabapple silhouettes
Lingering in the concrete
A sweet cider scent
Still perceptible
I take joy in my comrades
The squirrels anxious with errands
And the echo of the crow
Out of sight
But vibrating the cold uncluttered sky
And filling my ears with a message
To take joy

Sara Mathews     November 2016

Monday, November 14, 2016

My window on the world
Shows me yesterday
I’m sure it is today
Yesterday’s news still flutters
Down the street
Yesterday’s blues
Still puddle ‘neath the rose
The birds are on a loop
The clouds remain
Their shape the same
The sun is in repose
Yesterday knocks
Well meaning
From the West
I draw the blinds
And choose

Sara Mathews      November 2016

Saturday, November 5, 2016

A Seneca wind blew
Through the tops of the tallest pine
I thought it was dream
The meaning was elusive as this native wind
It stirred in me some deep
And ancient memory
My feet were getting way ahead of me
Anxious as they were to follow
And my heart too
Leapt on ahead of hesitation
My earthly self was nervous to let go
To breathe the life of one
I used to be
To know
I filled my lungs with recklessness
As I was wanting answers
And let the wind control
It carried me on reminiscent wave
It brought me up to Eagle skies
To heights I’d never dare
It showed me worlds
I used to wander
The tears came swiftly then
Ancestral rivers overflowed
And rapids rushed with clarity
And the Seneca sun shone full
Through the tops of the tallest pine
And the Eagle cried
Welcome home

Sara Mathews     November 2016