RUSSELL ROWLAND

Seven-time Pushcart Prize nominee Russell Rowland writes from New Hampshire’s Lakes Region, where he has judged high-school Poetry Out Loud competitions.  His latest poetry book, Wooden Nutmegs, is available from Encircle Publications.

NOVEMBER FIRST

Irresistible forty-mile-an-hour gusts

strip remaining foliage from limbs

of maple, oak, and beech—the way

disciplinarian parents sternly snatch

last evening’s Halloween bonbons

out of the fingers of the sugar-high.

Greyish-brown is solace to an eye

weary of squinting at brilliant reds,

oranges, even violets.  Thus night

succeeds day, sowing the reaping,

age our prime.  Decently, in order,

for the seasons under heaven: time.

At the local church it is All-Saints.

The faithful wade through leaves,

processing past pumpkin visages—

faces of apostles and revivalists—

venerable, though starting to sag

into the resurrection of the godly.

Churchgoers ask with their eyes

if they’ll be fruits of that harvest.

We almost wish it for ourselves,

as with rakes we clear litter away

that high winds left: our lifework,

until the Sabbath ordains us rest.

Read more of Russell’s work in Solum Journal Volume I and Solum Journal Volume III.