reconciliation

a dozen dark-eyed juncos,
full of bright yes-es,
skitter through a feast
of fallen cones

for days now I’ve carried
the polished comfort
of a horse chestnut
like a talisman

though no earthly charm
will reconcile the leaves
back onto November trees
when October finally yields

© Sarah Whiteley

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feathers

feather illustration 2 Isc

August again,
and the jays are
leaving feathered
remembrances
in ones and threes
on the sidewalks
beneath the trees –
showing sweet-shadowed
maples the best places
for leaves to lay
come October

© Sarah Whiteley

Back with a new look! The idea is to begin incorporating my photography and art into the poetry blog (tiedtosky.wordpress.com will be phased out). To begin with, I’m working on a series of pieces with little watercolor illustrations. Hope you enjoy the new layout and the addition of my attempts at art. Looking forward to catching up with everyone!

autumn’s end

the bees have succumbed to drowsiness
and the honeysuckle’s dropped,
replaced by the final asters
bowing low in blue reverence of sky

the river birches arch their yellow-graced
necks over the pond where drifts
of silver fish begin their quiet
descent to barely being

maples wait in flashing ranks,
upturned and expectant of lowering skies –
their red fingers signalling retreat
into stasis, when cooling saps no longer rise

and for now, we too forget our own restlessness –
stretching long in the last of the golden light –
hearts faint-pricked by the leaves’ moments
of letting go, watching the sun pull the light away

© Sarah Whiteley

Spending time with family in Wisconsin (and reminding myself once more why I live in a milder climate). Will catch up on reading when I return. Peace!

in memoriam – for J.

into swelling tides of feathered grasses
the swallows dive like last light
behind the foothills, purple and gray
with the bruises of another vanishing day

too many Octobers have becomingly blazed
since you and I sat on that step
with damp hair and cigarettes,
content in the sun-filtered silence

and if some days I choose to cradle my pain
close to my chest, it is only to
keep the dust from that October day
and our last shared morning

for all too soon the trees will bend
to November’s wind, piling their griefs
onto last season’s leaves, like failed birds
that lie in memoriam of warmer earths

© Sarah Whiteley

In other news, the deadline craziness is finally DONE and I can return to feeling human once more. Such a relief to shed a that particular stress and enjoy time that is once again my own!