Autumn passed me by in a blur
reds, gold, and brown streaked by as brush
strokes on canvass while the train chugged
on its tracks. A black mirror snaked through the forest floor
multiplied the earth and skies once and several times more.
A man stood on a field still green, being chased by his dog
my reverie was broken by a child crying out of her mother’s hold.
The sun scattered diamonds on the window pane
Too late did I mark the passing scene –
a woman sat on a bench under a flaming tree
a book on her lap,
on her mittened hands a steaming cup of coffee.
Everything disappeared, just when I saw them –
the woman, the trees, the world, and time.
Who is passing who? Is it the world or is it I?
Would that I could be in the moments gone by.
One of the buildings that made an impression on me when my family and I visited Albany, NY was the Department of Education Building. It was a long, relatively low building that appeared to be help up high by a long row of the most ornate of Greek columns, the Corinthian Column.
Below is a closeup of the capital with its intricate carvings and design. Looking towards the background, you can see the relief on the ceiling, while above, you can see hints of the elaborate relief that decorate the cornice. (Please pardon me if I am not able to name the parts accurately. :-) )
Here is a full view of the shaft and the base of the columns. Don’t they look elegant?
I tried to take a photo of the facade of the building. However, parts of it, towards the right, is blocked by the massive (and equally ornate) State Capitol. I had to crop this photo drastically just to get a closer look at the building.
In case you are curious about the State Capitol, here it is, too.
The building on the far left is the Department of Education’s.
All we have are souvenirs
of moments gone by –
traces of tears
shadows of laughter
and the feeling they left behind.
Summer bequeathed to Autumn
her seeds and skeletons
for time to choose
which to bury
Your scent lingers in the cool winter air
Visions of you tame its harsh landscape
You will ever live, Oh Roses of October
you who bloomed amidst autumn’s chill
until the very last when its frosty breath
shriveled your petals and made them fall
to the ground made fertile
by gifts you received and you’ve given.
Two sorority sisters, both at the prime of their lives, succumbed to cancer recently. To them, and to all who have lived, loved, and given their all, – a little remembrance.
Beyond these gates was an enchanted forest
full of people having a grand time.
Interesting folks inhabited the woods. They filled it with music –
death defying acts –
and heroism and courage. It was a place to meet interesting people: knights sweltering in late September heat –
a queen and her ladies-in-waiting relaxing under the shade of an oak tree –
-vendors whose welcoming smiles lend charm to their goodies.
There were souvenir shops where one could buy medieval themed products.
There were rides and other entertainments for the young and old.
Closing time came too quickly, but not before my children snagged their favorite souvenir – a wooden sword for each one. I took as many digital (and mental pictures) as I can. As we plodded our way back to our car, tired and exhausted, I exclaimed several times how much of a great time I had. Perhaps, next year, we will be in this extraordinary place again.
We sow memories in a pumpkin field
while walking on the dirt to find the one
pumpkin – unblemished, round, hallow, and big
enough to carve into jack-o-lantern
We will put candles inside its belly
its face will glow and watch those passing by
with eyes ablaze with mischief; the pointy
teeth announcing the imp behind the smile
Imagination soared while little hands
picked and dropped a pumpkin one after the other
voices squealed with delight “look what I found!”
that moment of triumph, sweet and tender.
Little children trudge home bent by the load
of pumpkins and plans for the Halloween
yet, I swear, their very step seemed to float
upon memories this blessed time will bring.