In Featured Poem, NLAPW

Featured Poem: memories in seasons

NLAPWby NLAPW

 

By Nancy Keats Benson
Central New York Branch

 

 

across the lake

Highland Forest beckons,

yellows, green and burnt orange,

clustered together,

small houses

dotted ups and downs

and Canadian geese making their way

across the blue-grey water.

 

a slight chill in the air

of what is to come

and the green still sits on the hills

before frost and winter’s cold

makes its mark

of white stillness

ice and snow.

 

four feet of snow,

lurking

making simple walking or driving

treacherous,

holding my breath,

till my footing

moves forward

for a new beginning,

 

as sunlight peers

through the frozen

sky and warms

this time with hope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

16 comments

  1. Sybil A. Ginsburg says:

    Thank you for sending me your beautiful poem. For a brief moment, the presence of DeRuyter Lake and its cycle of seasons gave me a sense of peace. My recent sense of dread and pessimism was interrupted by the reminder of being part of a larger whole.

  2. Karen Morris says:

    Your description of the inexorably approaching winter is very fine. The image of the Canadian geese “making their way” and your footsteps trudging onward through the snow work well together. The reader also responds to the sunlight at the end, weak in winter but promising warmth.

    • Nancy Keats Benson says:

      Thank you so much for your comments. They strike a musical note with me.
      Nancy

  4. Claire Massey says:

    The transition between winter and spring is indeed a time of hope and looking forward. Thank you, Nancy, for this lovely reminder that winter is impermanent, as are our seasons of discontent.
    Claire Massey

    • Nancy Benson says:

      Thank you Claire. You are right with me in this poem. I really appreciate your comments. Here’s to hope and spring tied together with a prayer!
      Nancy

  7. Dorothy Kamm says:

    I like how you created the setting, enhanced by color and temperature details. I like how you end the poem with hope, even though winter is coming.

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