Transitions into Winter

I wrote the following about 2 weeks before the world as I knew it exploded into a Chaos of ICU and cognitive therapy. I was in that stage of life that a mother reaches when her children are in far-flung places creating their own lives, and she is left with the leftovers; forgotten socks, discarded shoes, and well-read books in unexpected places.

In late October, the sun stretches shadows in the afternoon into shaded hues of mauve and purple that contract with the sere and faded grasses of summer. It could be a melancholy symphony, or a simple reminder that life as we know it goes on, and in each stage we have our part to play. However, some of us have forgotten to accept the role with dignity and grace; we want to dance with our darker selves in the shadow of another life.

This poem describes my transition into the acceptance from the sorrow of leaving what was, because it no longer exists. If you ever wonder what whispers in the heart of a woman walking into her later years, perhaps this will illumine you.

France Autumn

When the Sun is Long – a poem by Rhae Camdyn
My children dance all on their own
In sun gold fields long overgrown.
My beloved tarries in his mind
And thinks I care not for his time.
My hand wanders over ancient craft
The needles plied thru weave and waft;
The days stretch out in times’ sweet song
Like shadows when the sun is long.
The house is silent with memories full
Cobwebs hidden from duster’s pull,
The bookcase stands with sentient tomes
That summon comfort in our home.
The kitchen waits its’ daily rhymes
Of coffee, tea and toaster time;
The tumbled cares of forks and tongs
Like shadows when the sun is long.
Outside the garden grown is spent
Remembered color, shapes and scent.
The trees with whispered windy breath
Now speak of cold and icy death.
The lawn stretches toward a paler shade
A stem of grass, forgotten blade;
The rake now moves to right all wrong
Like shadows when the sun is long.
And now I turn to find the dawn
Beyond the shadows when the sun is long.
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