
September 26, 2025
At the Turning
It is the turning season
when oaks and hickories
rising skyward
flutter leaves
green and stubborn
while maples and dogwoods
slip on red, russet, and gold
and the last of the hummingbirds
sip from the nectar
and one by one
the last of the fireflies
flit by the half-opened window
and the last of the sunflowers
brilliant and bright
fade like stars
in a cloudy night
and squirrels prance about
cheeks bulging with nuts
the daily temperatures
rising and dropping
like a child’s yoyo.
Today, rain splatters
the still lush pasture
before its grasses turn dun
bales of hay cropping up
on porches
each moment of daylight
sliding sooner into the shadows
at the turning point
until the first frost falls
proclaiming that change is
and was and will be
as we turn
with open hands
to wait.
(c) Rosemary McMahan

I love it! Especially the turn with open hands to wait ..like a praise!
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Or, like an offering or a letting go. The magic of poetry.
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Wonderful!
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So lovely and true! 💕Enjoyed reading it!
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Thank you!
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Yes, “like an offering or a letting go.” So beautiful. This poem will be a beacon for me, along with Lucille Clifton’s lines, “the lesson of the falling leaves”:
the leaves believe
such letting go is love
such love is faith
such faith is grace
such grace is god
i agree with the leaves
–Lucille Clifton
—
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So beautiful Rosemary, your gift delights my senses and brings a warm smile to my heart and depth deep within : soul singing ❤️
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What a lovely affirmation. Thank you!
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Beautiful lines. Thanks for sharing.
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