BellemeadeBooks is now a daily arts and media blog. Readers who are on the current email list will receive only the Sunday entries, which will continue to be sent weekly. Daily links to new posts here are being added to my own Facebook profile page.
A poem for Labor Day
Whiskey season
(M Bromberg)
Comes now September with its shorter days
and windows shuttered against the rain and damp;
where summer bees once droned the cold collects,
see to the wood in the garage, check oil for the lamps.
Against a whiskey season and the dark night conserve,
spare the sun, and bank pine for the fire.
Surrender the garden to the October chill,
and prepare all that the winter will require.
If you're lucky to have old friends, invite them in
to recite the old stories familiar in their telling.
When the bottle runs dry, and the night is dark,
find extra blankets and pillows for their bedding.
Gather your wits and smarts, learn a handy way with knots,
teach your dogs to fetch kindling from the yard.
You'll need supplies from the grocer, so pay up accounts,
patch any holes you find, and thank your lucky stars
the year is slowly turning to a close
and instructions such as this are all you need.
When you've done all you can on your own two feet,
rest, be thankful, and ask for many years like these.
(2010)
(photo of Moonbird courtesy of Ricky Friend)
Posts
2 comments:
enjoyed the whiskey season, ... Tullamore Dew? or Glen Morangie?
Thanks for the poem. It reminds me of Robert Frost with its spare but wistful and almost sobering quality.
Alan
Post a Comment