Two Poems for Sallie

I.
I think of you, always, in autumn…
that day in the park
when we knelt in the grass
beneath a gingko tree,
gathering its delicate fans around us
then tossing them high, laughing
in the golden shower raining down…
we, of many years
we, who thought
there’d be many more…
I forget – already
you’ve been gone almost five.

I must love this world twice as much, for you…

II.
And there was this – again a day
in early autumn, light like gold coins
spilling through the trees,
you and I sitting on Aaron’s dock,
feet dangling in the water.
We talked of nothing, of everything,
of what happens when we die,
but death was far off
that day, we thought,
like the silvery threads
floating above us, tiny spiders
attached to the ends of each filament.
We felt magic, knew abundance,
joy in the blazing maples,
in our strong legs that carried us
back up the hill to your far-off house,
the high spider webs drifting above,
all distant…except death,
rustling behind us
in the fallen leaves.

Sharon Auberle divides her time between Sister Bay and Flagstaff, Arizona and feels immensely grateful to be a part of both communities. She enjoys photography as well as writing, and more of her work may be found on her web page, http://www.sharonauberle.blogspot.com