Evening met us with
a momentary visitation —
some among us have expressed impatience —
too late in the season for cold,
bring on the daffodils
Others have reminded them
February has the right
to dish up anything —
snow and crocuses,
plum blossoms and deep freeze
But what difference does it make
what any of us wants —
nobody asks us anyway!
©Wendy Mulhern
February 21, 2018
Plum colored plum leaves
swirl over each other
up the road,
gold leaves of birch and cherry
hold on against the wind,
windfall of fir branches and pine cones
half cover the street,
wind sings like traffic
It’s not so much a scatter
as a recombination,
this convocation of wind
and colored leaves, rain
and rays of sun —
release from former service
to the next gift,
coming into being
with the current of seasons
and moving onward.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 13, 2017
Leaves at our feet
have fallen among each other
like returning to family —
short swirl of togetherness
before the serious settle
into rain and dissolution,
the dark wet phase
along the turn of life
This splendor of colors,
this profusion of soft shapes
and subtle hues, feeds us
like laughter at remembered stories,
the lift of perspective,
leaf glow like sun glow,
luminescent
against the dark sky.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 9, 2017
Seamless, memeless,
October slides into its second half,
morning dew replaced by morning fog,
pine needles falling
Strong south wind blows through bright sunlight,
bringing, mid-afternoon, its signature overcast,
chill creeps into the house,
I turn on the heat
Vigil and comfort by turns
occupy the twilight,
earlier each evening.
What we are made of,
springing ever new,
will bring us through.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2017
Mat of roots at water’s edge,
persistent wind blowing
damp and gray,
steely sparkles from sun
mostly obscured by clouds,
hope seeping up into the day
We’ll take this time of change,
we’ll sink our teeth into it —
no point in trying to hide from it,
no point in getting lost
in the drift
We can have guidance,
we can be lifted —
this doesn’t have to be
all about falling.
There can be health.
There can be
finding the way.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 10, 2017
August takes a charming turn,
strong warm wind rattling
the early fallen dried leaves
orchestrating clouds for the sun’s
dance of veils, its radiant reveals
echoed in the shimmer of the trees
It tastes of something slightly serious,
a little exciting,
acceleration of increasing slope
down the season’s shoulder
It’s still summer, sun-warmed ripe blackberries
invoking pie all along the trail, and everyone
is hurriedly laying down memories,
like putting the summer’s fruits by,
catching the sweetness
so it can keep them warm
when winter comes.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 20, 2017
Ducks meander by the muddy bank
in the milfoiled water
breaking up reflections
with their Vs and circling ripples
The day’s gray stillness
amplifies the sound of engines.
Small birds chirp
under that canopy,
detritus of mindlessness
notwithstanding
We, too, chirp on,
as if we had no part
in the grand clearing,
as if (as indeed)
all we have is today.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 17, 2017
Summer is kind,
pockets of peace offered
in wind, in the play of light in leaves,
in shade. There is a lightness
that lifts thought like a kite,
dances it against the high currents,
brings new sight
Summer is replete
with memories of freedom
playing like breeze across the mind,
still impelling the thoughtful to dream
of liberty for all mankind.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 20, 2017
It is the time of honeysuckle,
the time of abandon
where vines wander and tangle,
where forbs race each other up
to the flower dotted tops
of their foliage
And birds are coaxing their young to flight
and it feels like there’s enough time —
enough time to get lost in,
enough time to find your cause.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 19, 2017
It’s February
but the yard is fragrant
with sweet box
and small birds are chattering
and the air is balmy
It’s not yet time
to go inside
though our outside tasks
are done —
It’s time to breathe this day
a little longer
while the tops of the fir
and the pine and the cedar
are full of sun.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 13, 2017