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  • Writer's pictureLouisa MF

Poem: Autumn 2023

I am publishing this poem because, surprisingly, when I tried to share it with my writing group I cried my eyes out. Reason enough. I guess it needed to be written out of me.



Autumn 2023

The Wisdom

It returns

every autumn

on the winds that rustle the metallic droplets of brown.

The green retreats

recoiling itself into the dark, secure ground.

“Let’s learn from nature”,

we are encouraged:

“Slow down,”

and

“Let go”.

Thoughts of you return at this time, too.

But they come back stronger,

more real than they ever were:

Your dark hair, cut in a bob,

short and edgy.

Your discarded cigarette ends,

hiding on a dish under a shrub,

so that mum wouldn’t find out.

Your clothes

in earthy tones

layered.

Those chunky

maroon

Dr. Marten

boots.

I remember the army surplus,

masses of khaki

endless rails of the stuff…

and your excitement, as infectious as your laugh.

You will know already but it’s mum’s birthday next week.

Perhaps you’ll reappear

in the dark. Rustling her bedding.

Taking up all the room in her head.

Just like you used to.

I wonder if I’ll see you,

shimmering gold,

energy dancing,

the universe in motion.

I am reminded:

No More isn’t a place.

Nowhere is here. So you must be somewhere.

These thoughts, these ‘lessons’,

they return each year.

But rarely are they any easier to learn.

Lasting wisdom…

it requires continuous pruning

and holding on - tight -

to the faith

that nothing

is ever really gone.


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