Member Poem

It is a time of gathering.
Summer spent
with little gain,
we pick among the skeletal vines—
stuffing cheeks
with amulets to ward off
the weariness of winter.

There is a turning here.
Another year
discarded like a faded friendship
I fear the time approaches
when I would willingly sell my soul
for one more day
of wholeness—
to breathe the autumn in with joy.
and witness the harvest
with these two eyes.