Autumn does not disrupt the household.

She steps in quietly wearing her gray

apron and sleeves pushed up, focusing on

certain tasks. She hasn’t blushed the leaves

or frosted the lawn; but instead tests the earth.

Her fingers pinch the soil,

and measure the length of feathers

scattered near the pines.

The ground is dry and migrant birds

are ready for passage. The wind quickens

with her cool breath. Rain sings in our bones

and a lizard climbs up the wall

taking refuge under the roof

where the old season has left

her tatting in its corners and her secrets

in the cracked stone.


  1. “her tatting in its corners and her secrets

    in the cracked stone.”


    …The kind of writing that goes beyond any ordinary talent.
    It lives and breathes and awes.

    Thank you!



  2. Hello, Wendy,

    You, dear fashion-designer of words, have done it again — posed the page with your flair. I enjoyed your poem. Certainly I’ll stop by to reread your creation.



  3. Dear Ely, Kerri, Jan, Sarah and Francina

    I am deeply touched by your kind words and personal impressions toward this poem!! I am so happy you enjoyed and sincerely appreciate your thoughtfulness and the time you have taken to contemplate my work!
    It really means so much to me!!

    Again, many thanks
    my best to you all!!!


  4. Wendy, I greatly enjoyed the images your words created of autumn moving in, quietly taking her place in cycle of the seasons.




  5. Hi Maryse

    So glad you enjoyed this one; and I deeply appreciate your kind words and perspective. I ,too, love that pic by illustrator Arthur Rackham. He is one of my favorite storybook artists from the 19th century. His work is haunting, intricate and beautifully enchanting!

    Thank you so much!
    Take care,


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