Changes in season



Lewes Revisited

Images blur riding on the interstate toward summer.

Forehead pressed to the window

I feel myself to be the parched fields of dry cornstalks and stunted soybeans

Skimming the horizon with eyes closed, I lick my lips as the air blows its dry wind.

Summer elongates.

The bay fills with jellyfish.  Fearing their stings I stand

Toes splayed against the stoney shore.

A seagull feather, white and transparent with gently curving spine,

Kisses my feet.

Shore breezes run through my downy underbelly,

Thin skin barely perceptible.

This summer does not claim me.

I wonder at having left my soul

Stopped up in the crystal ink bottle

Far from this place.

cp ©1997

Written in 1997 this poem was a melancholy farewell to our annual visits to the Lewes, Delaware where I had come to relax and re-center myself with my husband, children, and often with a relative or friend in tow. This year, however, was different.  Something had changed.  Perhaps it was my children growing up into teens, or the change to Lewes itself…no longer a small, quaint beach town but rather a hotspot for urban dwellers bringing their busy lives along with them.

But then, again, maybe it was me who had changed.  My art was as central to my life as my children and husband for twenty years, but it was waning, too.  It felt dull and repetitive. I no longer felt the thrill of solitude. I feared that I had lost my muse, my spirit.  Little did I know that I was on the verge of a major career change; it was only a season away. 

Sometimes we are sentient to these events in our skin before it surfaces to our everyday lives.  Having learned to trust these feelings, I only had to wait until the next window opened.


2 Responses to “Changes in season”

  1. Faith Says:

    Excellent. I liked the poem a lot–and then your comments about it and yourself were very insightful and beautiful. Do you have more, and have you considered reading for the Poetry Thursdays or whatever they are.


  2. Sally Says:

    Ah, this is beautiful.


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