A Long Letter
October
by Don Thompson, from Plainsongs Spring 2010
I used to think the land
had something to say to us,
back when wildflowers
would come right up to your hand
as if they were tame.
Sooner or later, I thought,
the wind would begin to make sense
if I listened hard
and took notes religiously.
That was spring.
Now I’m not so sure:
the cloudless sky has a flat affect
and the fields plowed down after harvest
seem so expressionless,
keeping their own counsel.
This afternoon, nut tree leaves
blow across them
as if autumn had written us a long letter,
changed its mind,
and tore it into little scraps.


Inside every turning leaf /Is the pattern of an older tree ~ Sting, from "I Was Brought to My Senses"
Photo: Topiary Park, October 16, 2014, Daron Larson.
See also: Thompson, D., & Parallel Press. (2009). Where we live: Poetry. Madison, Wis: Parallel Press. (Parallel Press, library)