Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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The new path

While colors fade and drop
as browns and grays emerge
upright, leafless, spare
The sun finds a new path
closed off before the change
This new light is a gift, an
opening of space and beam
delights forgotten while
the world was green
There the gold of larches in the marsh,
a roof line now exposed, a barn
or field with open sightline to the hills
All these a balm to ease our journey
into winter, and the snow

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My cousin, the writer Jack Skow, gave me invaluable advice when I showed him this, still not sure if I got it right since then.