Green cactus; Red rock

Green cactus; Red rock
photo by Linda Hoffman Kimball

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Seasonings

Seasoning
by Linda Hoffman Kimball

Spring teases with frills and ribbons,
Pastel confetti, garish greens
Pulsing and sassy.

Muscular summer flexes,
Sweating in the cornfields,
Slick at the weekend beach.

Autumn holds nothing back,
Revealing its earned gold, its rubies
Spread against dark trunks.

Winter knows its chill, linear tasks:
Locking up, turning out the lights,
Standing silent sentinel.



Where to begin. Today’s poem will be about…Broccoli? Nightmares? Puppies?

The pressure’s on. I look out the window of my wonderful sunny study and see the newly bare November tree limbs. That will be my springboard today. Wondering about what was just there, what it was like not long ago, and what’s ahead. Geesh, everybody writes poems about the seasons. But part of the task is just to write, to get something down, to ignore the million wisecracks from my inner editor.


November’s time to tidy up
The frills and ribbons of spring’s togs
Made room for summer’s swag and swelter.
Autumn broughtTrees have had their turn in Spring and summer’s togs.

November’s time to tidy up.
Spring’s frills and ribbons,
Pastel confetti, garish greens

Spring is frills and ribbons,
Pastel confetti, garish greens
Pulsing and sassy.

Summer, standing straighter,

Muscular summer poses
Flexing hot and oiled on the beach

Muscular summer flexes,
Mopping its brow in the cornfields;

Muscular summer flexes
Hot in the cornfields;
Oiled at the weekend beach.

Spring teases with frills and ribbons,
Pastel confetti, garish greens
Pulsing and sassy.

Muscular summer flexes
Hot in the cornfields;
Oiled at the weekend beach.

Autumn doesn’t flaunt its jewels.
No, not flaunt. Autumn owns its reds,
Has earned its gold.

Autumn has earned its gold,
Owns its reds against the stark, dark trunks.
Full disclosure, bold and

Autumn has earned its gold,
Owns its reds against dark trunks.
Holding nothing back, reveals.


Autumn, having earned its gold
And rubies against dark trunks.
Holds nothing back, reveals.

Spring teases with frills and ribbons,
Pastel confetti, garish greens
Pulsing and sassy.

Muscular summer flexes
Hot in the cornfields;
Oiled at the weekend beach.

Autumn holds nothing back,
Revealing all its gold, its rubies
Spread against dark trunks.

Winter knows its chill, linear task.
Sweeping down

Winter knows its chill, linear task.
Checking locks

Winter knows its chill, linear tasks.
Dimming lights, locking up,
Tucking all in with its white lullaby.

Winter knows its tasks:
Closing the latch, turning lights off,
Tucking in with the heavy blanket.

Winter knows its tasks:
Tucking in, turning out the lights –
Silent sentinel.


Seasoning

Spring teases with frills and ribbons,
Pastel confetti, garish greens
Pulsing and sassy.

Muscular summer flexes,
Sweating in the cornfields
Slick at the weekend beach.

Autumn holds nothing back,
Revealing its earned gold, its rubies
Spread against dark trunks.

Winter knows its chill, linear tasks:
Locking up, turning out the lights,
Standing silent sentinel.

3 comments:

  1. "NotYoNaNoWriMo" is my favorite thing to happen to me all day. I'm glad I saw that.

    ReplyDelete
  2. November is a good springboard. Our tree was flush with gold last week, but it's already spent and raked away. Time to uncrate the sweaters!

    ReplyDelete
  3. This poem reminds me of Carl Sandberg with its bold personified seasons. Now that we are past daylight savings time, I can feel the winter getting used to lining up its tasks and turning out all the lights to save energy.

    ReplyDelete