October 16, 2010

Poor Summer.... it doesn't know

Poor summer, it doesn't know it's dying.
A few days are all it has.

Still, the lake is with me, its strokes of blue-violet and the fiery sun replacing loneliness.

I feel like an animal that has found a place.

This is my burrow, my nest, my attempt to say I exist.

A rose can't shut itself and be a bud again. It's a malady, wanting it.

On the shore, the moon sprinkles light over everything, like a campfire, and in the green-black night, the tall pines hold their arms out as God held His arms out to say that He was lonely and that He was making Himself a man.

(Embers by Henri Cole)


  1. Beautiful words ... and that first photos if just stunning to someone like me who doesn't get to see Autumn colour! Lovely farewell to your Summer.

  2. Wow, what lovely photos that completely captured the essence of the poem. They are so tranquil.

  3. This poem really drew me into your photos. Perfect medley.

  4. Lisa, thanks, it's melancholy but it fit.


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