Summer’s wreckage;
a darkish start
of September days
Poetry Breathes in Each Season
Emily Dickinson writes “September’s Baccalaureate / A combination is / Of Crickets – Crows – and Retrospects / That makes the Heart put up its Fun / And turn Philosopher.” There’s something familiar about the seasonal mood Dickinson depicts of her time. Perhaps, it’s the strong seasonal urge to create, I always experience in autumn.
With the winding down of the year, I welcome the invitation to turn inwards. But this time not to split myself open and write about what hurts, as I usually do during autumn. Because I’ve been “opening my veins and bleeding on the page” a lot in these past recent years. The process has sucked me dry. Fortunately, I’m wrapping up that project now.

As I embrace the slower pace of the season, I’m deliberate. I flip through drafts and tip-toe (in my head) past some folders. Even though the stories burn, I stop to ponder the emotional investment I’d have to make. Because what I want to do this autumn is to create art and have fun doing so, whatever that means. Hence, there’s a subtle joy that comes with re-entering this space with this intention. And not knowing what shape or form the next abandoned creative project I pick up will take is slightly exciting.

There’s a quote I like (I’ve forgotten who said this) “If someone gives you a platform, take it.” However, in recent years, I haven’t been following this advice much. Because doing so feels like operating from a place of scarcity, as if there won’t be other opportunities in the future.

This means I’m saying yes to a few invitations at this point, even though I should be entering a season of visibility to promote my upcoming poetry collection. This is not a turning down of opportunities. I’m simply not ready for the performative act “required” in some spaces to talk about one’s writing or process. This is also in keeping with my word for the year, depth.

So, here’s to autumn! May you snuggle quietly in your joyous creative space and let poetry breathe into whatever art form you create!
Enjoy the season! <3
Of Summer Passing
Down the road from my house, the lake is a magnetic. Swimmers are thirst for water. Walkers are intent, eyes open for little joys; summer’s forget-me-nots. Toddlers and grandaddies jiggle along, with mamas and papas shining a compass in the lead. And God knows what they search for; orienteering an unromantic way of interacting with nature. Opinionated kids saying the darndest things fill the air with “whys” to their nanas’ amusement. The sun slants west, and music blasts. It’s the yet-to-be-educated leaders of tomorrow playing freshman games, planning to be wasted. That was yesterday.
This is today, the last Sunday of summer and the beginning of autumn, and my plea to you: forget the thankless suburban housekeeping, switch off the idiot box, let the hypersensitive unsocial grids rest for a change, put down all bright shiny objects, and go outside. In an effort not to detain you any further, the chat room is closed today. Go outside to fill yourself with sunshine. Go, now!


