In a nightly
upon a moon's
A red fox sings
upon a coolish
within a foggy
in an early
to kiss the green
and leave a wisp of
and store winter
Blue jays forage and
along walls of
Corn stalks left
staring at the
during the harvest
Gentle be the love of thy mother's mother.
soft voice speaking of
memories with clarity.
of kindly crafting knitted mittens each Fall
treasured by all, then in her Winter of days.
of holiday's past and family gatherings
Easter bonnets and
while roasting chestnuts on a big bonfire
times on the boardwalk in July.
Riding for ice cream in her old yellow Buick
grand cream interior
and fat whitewall tires
glorious days now a memory in the haze
joy with my dear mother's mother.
(Initial Publication, The
coffee pot perks to the
banging of trash cans along the lane
rumbles down the road
flies spy the fresh donuts and smile.
blue jays spar in the old
leaves of color float from the heights
Raven's flock in a
geese fly high heading to the south.
Maples are adorned with
old pails and
making syrup for blueberry pancakes,
fresh apples rest in
baskets on the porch
a last tomato ripens in a sunlit window.
tinkling of spoons in hot
kids laugh running to the school bus
pumpkin proudly sits
upon my steps
the Raven's Gold is my favorite flavor.