holy time {a poem}

I wrote this during my blogging hiatus, so if it sounds more like August than October, that's because it should.

















I pass an old woman
joyfully carrying two paper bags
home
after an early-morning
walk to the grocery store

and a child carefully climbs
the porch steps
into her mother's long
embrace
as they wait
for the bus to take
her to kindergarden
or perhaps
they're just sitting
she looks too young
anyway

and the heavy dew
streaking dormant cars
reminds me that fall
is not too far,
bringing an unexpected
lightness to my feet --
I've always claimed
summer
as my favorite
yet as I am drawn
to thin places
so am I drawn to
the thin times
of spring and fall
holy time
full of everything
and nothing
and God