How Did I Get Here?
to this time of year?
By Maria Shimizu ChristensenPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Moritz Kindler on Unsplash
Frost is a distant memory,
a half-remembered chill,
just a little shivery,
in the warmth of late summery
evenings beneath apple trees
losing their shine,
all their energy and will
bent toward fruiting and sweetening
the last of the crop,
with an eye on time
and its running out.
It's easy to forget what happens after
the last sweet bite of golden days,
thinking the dribbling juices
will last forever and under the tree
isn't a precarious place to be.
I like the cold, still days
of deep and quiet winter.
It's the passage from there to here
that startled me.
About the Creator
Maria Shimizu Christensen
Writer living my dreams by day and dreaming up new ones by night
Also, History Major, Senior Accountant, Geek, Fan of cocktails and camping
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