The seasons can't decide and neither can I--
stay or go, forward or back,
do I shed my clothes and feel the sun on skin,
warmth enveloping like a summer embrace,
or do I bundle and cover,
layers against the first frost?

This season of light to dark
and Mercury retrograde,
feels like a push-pull in my heart
and the darkness descends too soon.

Ancestral longings, day of the dead,
arrivals and departures leave a trace
and a touch of sadness for the passing on.
Time is eternal
but there is never enough time to say

The full moon lights the path;
tribal foot prints carry you on.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019


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