Cecilia is a published poet from Kanonah, N.Y. She writes stories; and has also published 3 small books. The science and observation of the wild, and natural environment are her subjects and inspiration. She also has endless fascination with the human psyche in all its complexities of expression.
This October 28, 2017
As bright and lush as years before
Autumn’s colors flash and fall
To search November’s pallid sky
to linger in the chill and pall
for December’s blanket to descend
and drifts will fill and whiten all.
Wind swept
Bundled up in my car
In mid-December I see him
on the sidewalk.
His short weaving steps falter
against a brisk wind.
Haplessly determined
to get somewhere fast.
He is dressed only in a thin shirt
baggy shorts, black loafers,
and white socks.
Strong gusts are
slapping him around
One skinny arm reaches up
to steady his flapping toupee,
but it gets away.
I pass and see him receding in
my rear view mirror.
and I’m thinking
what he must be thinking:
" 'What was I thinking?' "
~Cecilia Soprano
Pixabay |
This October 28, 2017
As bright and lush as years before
Autumn’s colors flash and fall
To search November’s pallid sky
to linger in the chill and pall
for December’s blanket to descend
and drifts will fill and whiten all.
Wind swept
Bundled up in my car
In mid-December I see him
on the sidewalk.
His short weaving steps falter
against a brisk wind.
Haplessly determined
to get somewhere fast.
He is dressed only in a thin shirt
baggy shorts, black loafers,
and white socks.
Strong gusts are
slapping him around
One skinny arm reaches up
to steady his flapping toupee,
but it gets away.
I pass and see him receding in
my rear view mirror.
and I’m thinking
what he must be thinking:
" 'What was I thinking?' "
~Cecilia Soprano