Poetry Night at the Writing Life, 28 September 2024

A poem about autumn finally coming to Iowa.

Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash

Tonight’s featured poem is about the arrival of one of my favorite times of year - autumn.

If you have not noticed, I am a fan of the months of summer because I get time off, not necessarily due to the sun and heat. Especially not the heat. Whether it is something in my own nature or its the fact both of my parents grew up in the cooler Midwestern environs of Wisconsin, I have never been a fan of the weather whenever it creeps past the 80 degree Fahrenheit mark.

I’m not a fan of weather which gets me sweating within five minutes of walking around outside. I’m not a fan of 50 percent-plus humidity days where it seems you can cut the air into slices. Unless I’m swimming or on the water (like my beloved Mississippi River), I usually prefer to hang out indoors, especially on the insane days when it gets over 100 degrees.

I live for the days when it’s 48-68 degrees and the leaves are starting to decorate the ground. I love it when there’s at least a little cloud cover and the sun’s not blazing down on you from above. And if it’s raining outside, it’s not the end of the world.

The idea of it being September, with the color of the leaves starting to change and some of them even falling, and it still being 80-85 degrees in the middle of September is just heresy to me. The first day of the autumn equinox, when my little southeast corner of Iowa finally got a fall day, inspired the following.

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Photo by Joel Drzycimski on Unsplash

Autumn Slow-Walks to Iowa

The TV said autumn came to Iowa

But I didn’t believe it.

The calendar said autumn came to Iowa

And I knew it wasn’t true.

For months when I opened the door it was

Corn sweat thick air you could carve with a knife

Blazing sentinel sun unencumbered by any cloud

Life in a 24-hour sauna.

But the TV and calendar kept insisting

And I didn’t see the sun in the sky

So I took a stroll outside.

And there were

Light breezes and lighter air

Mellow light filtered through the cloud banks

And the only real heat outside was coming from me.

I rejoiced in walking without feeling sweat bead up with every step

And seeing the red, brown, and yellow leaves dressing the sidewalks.

I thought good to see you, old friend,

It’s been too long.