Home Again

The diseased dogwood tree is beautifully brilliant in her autumn of life.
She welcomes me home
and I sip coffee and soak in the
what is of changing leaves and lives and overflowing foliage;
sun shadows cloudy and chill in the air,
gold and gray at the edges, hers and mine.

Let the wind raise goosebumps on the back of your neck;
sometimes you need the wakeup call.
Home is where it is easy to be --

musts and dos erased,
and the bee soaks nectar from
the red begonia.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2018


Popular posts from this blog

Letter to my future self

Still the Birds Sing