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The Ritual of Leaving
by Carissa DeweyIt's the time of year
an always familiar time-
when our memory
beckons
glowing shades of
nature, although they arent yet visible
but felt-
a rupture in season.
The warm days soon cooler
and cattle trucks- one then more
begin to appear.
They rest in our fields
on our everlasting picturesque
fields,
near cooling rivers
and pine covered hills.
These small cabins
are slowly loosing their occupants-
disappearing
still.
And here we are-
past months full of work, and of freedom,
short mountain romances
and as these closing days pass and the
mountain sides turn tawny hues,
we realize that things are never constant here
and we turn into our other selves.
09/02/2008 Posted on 10/30/2008
Copyright © 2025 Carissa Dewey
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