On This Golden Autumn Day

Today is not a golden autumn day. In fact today is rather ominous and smoggy due to the fact that the wind is blowing from Idaho and most of Northern Idaho is on fire to greater and lesser degrees. My thoughts are with them as I squint through the haze at the hills and breathe the dirtied air. Today I went to pick apples at Green Bluff with my cousin and thought about how my trip differed from last year’s apple picking trip. The wait for rain and release from fire in Idaho and so many other places around the country and the farmers’ wait for frost to ripen the sugars in the apple created feelings of anticipation and dread simultaneously as these hopes cannot be fulfilled by anyone but nature. Two years ago after visiting Green Bluff to pick apples on a gorgeous blue sky fall day I wrote this poem.

On this golden autumn day

We are greedy cusses,

staining our clothes,

making our hands and faces sticky with the juice of the day

The blood of the fruit of the tree

on this golden autumn day.

Lead me not into temptation

I have found the garden myself

On this gold autumn day

With its every blossoming buzzing growing living thing

Trees with their hearts fiery red,

trees of passion with wild tresses falling to the ground

They give, give their hearts

lift them high in the air

Let them roll on the ground

On this bright autumn day

A little part of themselves to venture out into the world

On this autumn day

Their fruit investigated by languorous mouths,

a shy blushing pink,

white flesh under their skin

Exploding crisp and tasting of stored sunlight

The long days of summer

In one moment

On this golden autumn day

May those fires be quenched soon and promised apples fill the baskets of farmers on the golden autumn days to come.


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