It is that thrilling and spooky time of year again, leaves turning blood-red, tree limbs baring skeletal lines. Our neighborhood becomes for a brief time punctuated with both cozy cheerful notations and operatic tableaux. This post is a good excuse to share some of my favorite local images from this year, as well as a few seasonally-inspired poems.
My short poem, “All Hallows,” was written long ago, and was published in the summer 2020 edition of The Orchards Poetry Journal. Today seemed like the right time to share it on these pages. Below is an even older poem inspired by this time of year, “Driving to Appleton.”
All Hallows
Leslie Schultz
In the end, we bestow
that most precious gift:
our life. From all
experience there is this quietness
of final meek withdrawal.
In these dark trees, the heft
of soft feathers knows
night is mere caul
and cauldron where silence stirs.
Owls are uncanny birds.
They glide on silk hush, sift
sound, find our mouse hearts;
pierce fearfulness
with claws sharper than an apt word,
keener than the tongs of art,
carry us higher now
through our woundedness
up to moonlight
and beyond, allowing new sight
as we wink out, think Good night.
DRIVING TO APPLETON
Leslie Schultz
(1980)
Pumpkins sleep close to houses.
Evening light covers them with gold.
These farmhouse windows are lit and cold.
Grey barns settle on their stones.
Everywhere sheaves lean
Toward their centers.
Great rolls of hay seem to lumber.
Winter is coming, but now
The culverts are purple with thistles,
The cattle are plump,
And there, in the hollow,
A rusted harrow rests.
The woods beyond
Are full of gossips.
When the moon washes over
The tops of birches,
They’ll ride to the cut fields
To glean
And mend their brooms.
Happy Halloween! LESLIE
