autumn

  • Impermanence

    Even the finest things,those we treasure most,are meant to fray, unravel and pass away:     my grandmother's hand-stitched coverlet,    the scarf I knitted for my mother in third grade,    my father's favorite flannel shirt,     friendships, … Continue reading

  • Hiking with Death

    Climbing the trail,I'm joined by a young woman. We chat,observing the shift toward winter,the changing colors,the increasing coolness,how this path of gravelwill soon be packed with snow,rutted by cross-country skis,pocked with snow-shoe tracks. "Your name?" I ask. "My friends call… Continue reading

  • Embracing Death

    Do you believe in death?Lots of us don't–or at least live as if we don't. People glibly say,"Live each day as if it's your last,"but that's nearly impossible to do:    Would you make the bed?    Would you empty the dishwasher?    Would you close… Continue reading

  • Missing Winter

    Where are you winter?Where the scouring windsand white-rimed leaves,hold-overs from last season's arboreal couture?Where the leveling whiteness,the inward-driving respitefrom summer's relentless restlessness? Where are you winter? Our warm outerwear waits in darkness,wondering, worried;a feeling of abandonment settles like duston the… Continue reading

  • Autumn Song

    This coming coolnessintroducesan edgeof uncertainty. Autumn(my favorite season)is a time of transition. Here in Denver,    nights shift from cool to cold,    trees from bold to barren,    the patio from flowered and fragranced to emptied and wrapped,   … Continue reading

  • The Meaning of Autumn

    because fall winds blowwe know of endingsthe bending of branches barednot spared the site of witheringthe shivering as we witness the demisedespise the coming coldthe coming old not just of hard groundbut all 'round the freezing of the selfthe teasing… Continue reading

  • Super-Glued

    It is goodto be super-gluedto God. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • A Caution for Parents

    That something lived beneath my bedwas simply not the question."That thing is all inside your head,"was Mama's stern suggestion. But then one evening while she frownedbeside the bed and lectured,it grabbed her ankles, pulled her down,as I had long conjectured.… Continue reading

  • Native Tongue

    English is my second language. Poetry is my first. Do you want to understand me?Do you want to be understood?Engage me with symbol and simile,metaphor and ritual,evocation and allusion,the resonant, resounding play of syllables,the engaging, enriching arc of imagery. This… Continue reading

  • Answering the Call

    Do you hear that?It's loving calling you,calling you to let go. What's the worst that could happen?You could lose yourselfand find eternity. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading