In the Confetti Last Hurrah


There is not a firm step in Autumn.
The snowfall of bright falling leaves
invites me to dream as I rake
them into blankets for winter’s nursery.

The anger I so often carry in my steps
surrenders to the sleepy hours of shorter days,
the gentle voice of house slippers whispering
across my bedroom floor. 

This year of sterile rooms and moans
quietly disappears into the mist
of kinder memories, hot chocolate mornings
that speak you don’t have to hurry now. 

So many believe it is a new year that commands
resolutions, new beginnings, but it is when
trees explode into their confetti last hurrah
I begin to feel the first flutter of new wings.


©Susie Clevenger 2024






 

Comments

Sherry Blue Sky said…
I love this so much, Susie, the gentle slippers across the floor, the hot chocolate and not having to rush any more - the comforts of home after hard months. LOVELY to read you, always!
Susan said…
" snowfall of bright falling leaves"--Every image in this poem is lovely, visually stunning. And then there's whispers and tastes and relaxation. A splendid poem-picture.
Mary said…
Just a beautiful poem, Susie! The imagery is wonderfui, and I love, love, love these words in the last stanza:
but it is when
trees explode into their confetti last hurrah
I begin to feel the first flutter of new wings."
Sumana Roy said…
I love the way the poem moves from a gentle, quiet and slow pace to the sudden outburst of power and beauty. The last stanza reminds me of a phoenix. So beautifully written, Susie.
Yvonne Osborne said…
How true. Why should we wait for the New Year to make resolutions? This makes me want to rake some leaves!!
Rajani said…
The close is so strong.. there's so much to empower us, if we look around...