While Sitting Atop a Catlin Hill Meadow in Early Autumn

WHILE SITTING ATOP A CATLIN HILL
      MEADOW IN EARLY AUTUMN


valleys and hilltops spread out before
me like a September calendar picture
under a large and semi-circular sky.

Clouds to the west are backlit, their
undersides dark and heavy--the sun
casting off an indirect light upon

fields below turned the color of
brown sugar---having been cut and
baled, leaving large rolls looking

like giant woolly beasts grazing on
the great plains of antiquity. Nearby,
half an ancient maple has split and

fallen to the ground---a sprawled out
old man, having lost his balance over
stones and sticks, gravity dragging

his old bones down to join brother
earth. A bird begins to sing in my ear,
telling me something important---

but stops suddenly, becomes silent,
perhaps remembering his song’s a  
revelation meant only for ears not  

accustomed to the dead of winter.
Here I sit atop a Catlin Hill meadow
in early autumn---knowing that the

days will soon be full of change for
             all that abide.

Reviews

[Eilis]

This reminds me of Wendell Berry in ways. It’s a nice descriptive tour of the landscape, but also something deeper than that. The spiritual landscape seems also to figure heavily.

I always think that the landscapes we see change according to what we are experiencing internally. When the black dog is following things take on a more sinister tinge, but when we are filled with a kind of bubbling awareness it seems like every detail shows itself and feels significant.

Your poem offers this stunning landscape with novel descriptions, but also it offers a sense of the depths of the human spirit. The things we discover when we let silence be our guide. At least that’s where it’s led me today. I’ve read this several times and felt differently each reading.

I just think it’s lovely work.

[kentuck14]

Wow . . . being compared to Wendell Berry! Thanks for the compliment. I think you may be right in your thoughts about how we see landscape . . . just like we see manscape . . . according to an inner attitude of mind and emotions. Thanks for the comments.
T

[barleygirl]

There's so much to love about your autumn poem that's unlike any typical autumn poem (well done!) I love the fallen half-a-tree imagery -- this is a brilliant way to carry the idea of how autumn can also be the way we refer to old age -- this late-life weight that's dragging us down, cracking our previously intact frame. The imagery just pops on & on in the reader's mind, reading your word painting (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[kentuck14]

Margie,
Thanks much for your kind and insightful review. All the best.
T

[Ted Kniffen]

Descriptive delight. I love those scenic calendars. I try to find one where I have been to the places pictured.
As I was reading I was tramping the hillside through mounds of leaves while the bird song rang out. lin Hill sounds like my kind of place.
Love the title as well.

Good write

[kentuck14]

Ted,
Thanks for stopping by and commenting . . . hope you enjoyed your hillside tramping!