Poem October 2023
Today the trees release their leaves. The wind
a breath that calls the colors down to earth —
wild dance with crimson, gold, and brown
aloft in death, unfurling flaming fields
and forest floor. If I could hurl myself
like this into each ending, long for nothing
sure or safe, but celebrate the letting go,
descend, a woman trusting the fall.
I’d release all claim to expectation,
breathe the air of possibility,
find beginnings everywhere.
I’d settle down to loamy earth long enough
to nourish life that waits, growing still
in the summons from a savage world.
— Pat Riviere-Seel
Pat Riviere-Seel’s latest collection, When There Were Horses, is available from Main Street Rag Publishing Company.