Autumn Aria
Mary Hudson
The song descended
with dusk.
I could hear it from
my kitchen window,
Pulling me through
the door,
Out into the crystal
cold.
Golden purple notes
draw me westward, sunward.
Enchanted trees stand
frozen in the stillness,
Their indigo silhouettes
thrumming the harmony
Of my autumn aria.
Hickory incense,
sacred to the memory of
Winters past brings a
chuckle to my throat.
The sound never
escapes my lips.
To break the stillness
would end the music.
Swiftly my feet carry
me
Scuffling leaves in a
cadence
All their own. This
moment,
This symphony is mine
alone.
A discordant rumble
rends the night,
The headlights pierce
my thoughts with impunity.
The melody is lost
forever.
It’s just as well,
for I have returned
Home.
November 24, 2008
Dear Sir or Madam,
Thank you so much for sponsoring
this contest. This is my first attempt
at poetry since I was at least eleven years old. I am now twenty-three, a homemaker and mother
to two rambunctious boys, with another one on the way.
This poem snuck up on me rather
unexpectedly. I can tell you “write a
poem” was not on my mile long to-do list that day. I rushed outside to throw away a diaper and
was arrested by the one-of-a kind, not-to-be-duplicated spell of the
evening. I returned to the house long
enough to grab a coat and ask my husband to watch the kids.
And then I walked.
The entire universe became my private retreat
and I felt myself renewed with every step. Suddenly, I was rudely interrupted by an obnoxious truck and the spell
was gone.
I know I can never regain the
moment, but this poem is how I captured the memory.
And that is why I wrote it.
Sincerely yours,
Mary Hudson*Once again, I was struck by the beauty of an autumn evening while taking out the trash. This long forgotten contest entry came to mind. I loved writing it. But I didn't win. It seems this was a sham contest with no real "winners", just potential suckers who would be willing to buy an "anthology" with their masterpiece included.
Oh, well.
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