Poetry

The Last Dance

A dull brown leaf
with curled edges
came dancing on my roof
one soft pink and blue sunrise.
It frolicked and skipped,
stopping many times
to rest from celebrating.
For a short time,
it was completely dormant.
Then, with mincing steps,
it inched back and forth
across the flat black roof
until a sudden windy gust
whipped it up and beyond.

What would the October wind
do with this frail but lively leaf?
Would it soon join its siblings
and become earthly compost
or would it continue airborne
to prance away the autumn
before winter sealed its fate?
At our last earthly dance
will there be breezy comments—
“How well she always stayed
in rhythm with the world”—
or will they realize that
we were lifted up and beyond
into an eternal realm?
 
Joyce Bell
Windsor, ON

Night Rain







Awakened
in the deep dark of night
by the incessant patter
of rain on my windows 

Sounds change
as wind joins in
Wet swishes and moans
A loud clatter
A gentle roar
Ebb and flow of sound 

I open the window
just slightly
To hear every word
Not enough to let the rain inside
I breathe the cool damp air 

Then the rain becomes
a gentle tinkling clitter-clatter
Wind subsides
The rain ends
Brief silence
as dawn approaches 

Birds begin
A cacophony
of songs and chatter
No hope of sleep now
As dawn breaks
the birds watch the sun
as it sweeps across the gardens
in a warm wide smile

Joan Kehoe
Scarborough, ON

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