It feels as if we are introducing you to Autumn. Slowly, and with care. Small hands, fingers fisted before bursting open like early fireworks. Breath-taking. Quite literally. Little face, big eyes, shadows for brows. All of these things change as the season steps in, lifts you from your bassinet, pinks your cheeks.
Look– at how much you’ve grown, at how the leaves have turned so quickly, these layers forming one over the other. Breath, and breeze, across your vocal chords. Outside a storm is cooing through the branches, changing notes, the strength of it lifting tree roots from their standings. When the winds settle, we sweep all the chaos beneath carpets, smooth the lines till they’re crisp. Pat you stomach. Tell you, that this fire is good.
The sky is beaten grey,
the metallic sheen of swords
unsheathed and waiting.
Congratulations on your baby girl! She sounds warm and snug by the fire.
Very elegant! I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the intimate with the detachment of not knowing the addressee, of wondering where this soft and cool autumnal musing was going to take me. I wasn’t prepared for the silvery haiku, though – sharp and chilled to the touch, like these sweeping autumn nights.
Small correction–“they’re” for “their”. I loved the poem, and it was clever using the babe as protagonist. Hard to know what fear entails for the infant mind, where wonder trumps all else.
Well that was cleverly done!
Beautiful, and congratulations to you!
Fine work, Carol. Love how the seasonal change lifts the babe, pinks the cheeks. Thanks.
Thank you Ron.
How skillfully you weave the wistful imagery of Autumn with the pleasant voice of an adoring parent. How marvelously you evoke fear in the contrasting haiku! Brava, Carol!
Thank you Frank. I’m so glad it seems to work.
This was wonderfully written. Congratulations.
Thank you
You are welcome.
Beautiful, simply beautiful.
Beautiful writing, Carol. I love this. What a vision of autumn. ❤
I love this, and how the haiku really evokes every parent’s fear of what can go wrong.