+still unsure of what i saw through the maples was actually you or a passing car

Autumn equinox - Farmers drain fields

Inhale. Sieve. Outflow.

About every morning Boone and I head out for a run or a walk. In fact, we just returned from our jaunt, he’s already found a cozy place on the couch and is deep in his mid-morning slumber. During tick season, we avoid some forested or grassy areas, but the rest of the year we explore freely. Fortunately we live adjacent to undeveloped land. Our subdivision was once a farm, but the undeveloped parts contain multiple ecotypes loosely described as: alder thicket, wetland, ephemeral ponds, oak woodland, pine ridge, maple groves, prairie, etc. But most fascinating is the Fox River that flows steadily through it all.

Last year for the entire month of January I devoted my writings to revolve some degree around the Fox River. Once a day or more I observed the river with our coon hound, some days for hours, some for a mere moment.

The following poem was written on a day where I was feeling deeply human, just checking items off my list. Is that really a life worth living? Wrapped up in my own thoughts, questioning questions, and living in a moment neither here nor there.

As we acknowledge and indulge in the bountiful harvest season, prepping ourselves and our environments for the unforgiving, nipping cold (at least here in the north), I would like to share this moment of reflection. Each year I try to improve on my timelines and readiness for winter, but sometimes being honest and present is a truer truth. I have found tenderness and an acceptance with feeling inadequate and challenged. Autumn and Winter seem to embody those emotions for some people, and I hope this is a reminder that winter always turns to spring, and everything changes.

+still unsure of what i saw through the maples was actually you or a passing car

with

a little more

effort, i could have

seen you earlier, as i said i would

i’ve become comfortable passing on opportunities,

this morning drifts around me like the cold winds that

blow not through, but passing, go around, body an obstacle

for the record, i did look back, i think maybe,

through the tangled maple pioneers

i saw exposed depths, and knew

the changes i am seeing

in you, Fox, are

reflections

of me.

or?

ON STEP FURTHER, DEEPER

Captivated, glued to voice and words, I have been enamored by Rachel Sermanni’s creativity since 2014.

This song in particular pairs well with the emotions my poem and pictures are trying to articulate.

Please, do listen to this and other creations of hers.

Rachel Sermanni - Everything Changes

Fondest cheers to you all,

-moki-

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