The Greater Canton Writers' Guild, Inc.
All poetry and artwork shown here is original and the property of the person listed at the top of the page
The North wind has come calling
Trees nod their acquiescence
Leaves bristle en pointe
Awaiting their dances.
Caught up in the whirlwind
Limbs bend and bow
Leaves rustle with the wind
Needing to go.
One by one
For each whose time has come To jump, dance and pirouette
Under the setting sun.
Clothed in gilded colors
They tumble, turn, and fly
Sparkling, glistening, filtering sunlight
Dancing in the crisp blue sky.
Winds buffet, trees billow
Falling gold: amber skies
Gathered by the whirlwind
Dancing their last goodbyes.
The Reluctant Traveler
I made a wrong turn somewhere
between then and now
and currently am driving down a road
I never wanted to be on.
This road taunts me with memories of the past.
There is no place to turn around.
Circumstances propel me forward,
so my car speeds on.
I travel up one hill and down the other
lost in a maze of back roads
I scan each intersection hoping for a sign
but each cross road I come to holds its secrets
with signs that are worn down, bleached out and rusted through
thirty years ago
so my cars speeds on.
A haze hangs overhead obscuring the sun
East, West, North and South become one.
As I aimlessly wander the countryside
confused and anxious
I wonder if, where and when these roads will ever end.
I'm unable to stop
So I follow the car from behind the wheel
And my car speeds on.