![]() Patterns of MigrationA Poem by Zoe Richardson![]() Autumn calls us home where we belong![]() Patterns of Migration Notes and blessings Written on the backs of falling
leaves Whispers pressed between The pages of a leftover schoolbook A cup of tears passed Between friends I have been frozen by That first frost Lived inside the coldness Of an autumn rain A traveler kept prisoner For the crime of duty Learns to dread the mercies Of October in a foreign land Apples are nothing compared To summer peaches What is an early snow when Stacked against a landscape That never sleeps You can have your bonfires And your orchards Dress yourself in scarlet maples And cobalt skies I will stand my watch in the
tangles Of golden grass and deep green
spires Exhaust yourself in gathering In working and chasing the ghost Of long-dead industry I will tuck my words beneath my
wings Set my course the battered oaks And fly away home -Zoe Richardson (2022) © 2022 Zoe RichardsonAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthor![]() Zoe RichardsonCordova, ALAboutAlabama native. Poet and storyteller and all around word nerd. I practice random acts of insanity because the world needs some shaking up. more..Writing
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