You always asked me why,
how did leaves change color
giggling from the red wagon
I pulled around the block.
As the leaves parade, an early flaming row
burned into memory, your voice
is missing in the trees.
Wishing it returned
with the falling.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Ali, what an exquisite poem. I get the sense that the words almost surprised you as they came out. There’s a hint of sadness and joy moving through this … felt like leaves falling into happiness. More than that and yet it’s the best I can describe my impressions.
I think your poetry is wonderful and so full of presence, as are you. Thank you Ali! Much love and Light to you. Debbie
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Debbie, thanks for taking the time to share your reflection of this poem. It is definitely a heartfelt one for me.
I am grateful to know that my words matter to your day.
Keep shining your light. Sending love your way.
Ali
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giggling from the red wagon
I pulled around the block.
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Kirsten, thank you for sharing you reflection. I am surprised by this one.
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That last 2 lines wraps it up for me. Autumn season is a time of nostalgia.
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Grace, I always appreciate your poetry. Thanks for stopping by.
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Beautiful words.
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I appreciate your response Megha.
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Loved reading it.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you.
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Ahhh! Reminds me of the time when my sons were youngsters. Beautiful!
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It makes me smile that you said that. I have two sons as well. Fond memories.
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This feels deeply true, beautifully portrayed in your words as always.
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Thank you for letting me know that you heard truth in this. It is my truth as best as I can share it.
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I love how you describe the flaming color and how much that wakes the memory… bittersweet until it falls.
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Bittersweet is a good word for it. Grateful for the memory and sad for the missing of him. Thanks for visiting.
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Take away one element and the picture is dull. I like the wistfulness, the nostalgia in this. It goes with the colours.
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Thank you Jane. I’m glad the emotions came through for you.
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Very much so.
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Very nice remembrance of that voice missing as the leaves change color.
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Thank you for your reflection Frank. I always appreciate hearing from other poets.
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It’s never the same as it was, but the memories always warms our heart.
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Astrid, you are right. I am grateful for the memories.
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There’s a sense of sadness and loss in your words. Beautifully written Ali to match your fiery golden photo.
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Miriam, thank you. The beauty and the sadness tumbled together through this one.
Have a beautiful week. Keep on healing that hand.
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Thank you Ali. I hope you have a beautiful week too.
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Your voice is missing in the trees. Stopped me, made me want to be on that voyage with that little red wagon, to hear that voice, then. Now. Memory. This is beautiful Ali.
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Thank you Colleen. Memories can be such a gift when I am missing him.
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I’m sorry you’re missing someone Ali. Memories are truly a gift indeed.
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to miss someone’s voice can create such a huge void in the heart – one that even memories can’t seem to conjure, loved the sadness of losing someone expressed so tenderly like the falling leaves
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Gina, thank you for hearing the loss in this poem. I appreciate hearing from you.
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I know that pang, the empty space where a brightly coloured, chaotic and joyful child once was. My daughter is now a mother and I wish I could be closer to have some of her son rub off on me! The final stanza is so poignant and I especially love the colour in:.
‘…the leaves parade, an early flaming row
burned into memory’.
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Thanks for the reflection Kim. I always love hearing the specific lines that resonate with someone else.
Yes, the pang of missing him. I do. There isn’t a word I know to describe the feeling.
Take care of your heart.
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There’s such a sense of loss in this poem. Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you for reading it. Loss is something we all share.
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Beautifully penned! The contrasting colours and the emotions speak from the soul.
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I am so glad that this poem spoke to you. Thanks for the kind words.
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You’re welcome. I loved reading it.
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The past tense breaks my heart. A great memory and even a revisit of colors doesn’t make up for lack of voice. Very good. Moved me. Even if the child just grew up and remembering the fun of wonder we share. All sorts of reasons to like poetically, but it moved me, and that’s a good write.
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To have someone read your words and feel your hurt creates a healing. Thank you for letting me me know that this touched your day.
Love is painful and magnificent, sometimes fleeting and always what matters most.
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Ali, some poets I read as a part of my day, but the voices like yours I read aloud with my heart. You didn’t touch my day, but mt heart. Thank you the healing you penned.
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I am honored by your words. To touch someone’s heart is always my purpose for sharing. Thank you so much for letting me know.
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