Christ
In Winter: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter…
September
days are cooler
I
walk in the woods
while
luncheon dishes
wait
In
summer I walk as early
as
my body and the day allow
for
then the days are wet with
sweat
I
puff and wheeze
I
grow weak and am not steady
Summer
days say that I am
old
In
autumn I can wait
to
walk below tall pines
until
the sun is
slanting
Thru
yellowing birches
neither
sharp nor mottled.
I
move smoothly
tacking
only
slightly
from
side to side
to
keep the world from
tilting.
John
Robert McFarland
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