Sweeping the Porch
Autumn comes, layered in dust
from summer winds
And a a drought parched earth
A path leading up to the porch is
not as welcoming as it was in May
Now overgrown with patches of thirsty devil grass
Brown and searching for a drink
While weaving it's tendrils between the slate
As I sweep the porch,
I spy a chipped terra-cotta pot,
Still harboring a forlorn geranium, all legs...no blossoms,
Forgotten, discarded, and has shriveled away
Piled high now, a wheelbarrow,
With remnants of summer's bloom, now faded.
Sweeping webs of long-legged spiders,
Which have encased a glistening tapestry around the pillars
Those spindly creatures, swiftly flee my wrath
As I fulfill my need to renew, and refreshen
Restore an old porch some dignity.
The porch swing is swaying after a dusting.
A new pillow, and a basket filled with gourds take a slow ride.
A grapevine autumn wreath is hung on the front door.
I shine a window that faces the mountains
And a new pot of bright orange mums
Now proudly sits by the door to warm and welcome.
While I have erased the traces of a dusty, tattered season...
My heart and home are now ready to embrace the rust and gold of autumn's
arrival...
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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