When did the wind change?

This is a poem by my friend Patricia Rogers. She is a writer I greatly admire, because, as well as writing beautiful poetry, she writes with courage and unflinching honesty. In another poem you can find on her blog, she writes of ‘living a little life’. But a little life described honestly and courageously can also be a significant life.

Patricia Rogers' Weblog

When did the wind change?
The first brittle leaves
stumbled down from the trees
in the heat of summer.
They lay on the ground
in plain sight
while the children ran
barefoot over the warm grass.
Nobody noticed.

When did the dark nights begin?
The sunset crept forward
so gently that darkness
came as a surprise.
The children were called home,
scampering into their lighted houses
one by one..
Heads were laid to rest.
Night fell.

When did the world change?
How long has it belonged
to someone else?
Summer slipped through my fingers
while I looked away.
Skeletons of bare trees
stretch upwards through fallen beauty,
reaching for home.
I keep walking.

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