A Thanksgiving Playlist
Short is Good: A Review of The Best Christian Short Stories

A Poem for Autumn, I Think

Last Days

Things are
     changing; things are starting to
          spin, snap, fly off into
               the blue sleeve of the long
                    afternoon.  Oh and ooh
come whistling out of the perished mouth
     of the grass, as things
turn soft, boil back
     into substance and hue.  As everything,
          forgetting its own enchantment, whispers:
               I too love oblivion why not it is full
                    of second chances.  Now,
hiss the bright curls of the leaves.  Now!
    
booms the muscle of the wind.

(Mary Oliver, in New and Selected Poems, Vol. 1)

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