ROSE'S OCTOBER PHOTOS

A wonderful little family market not far from our home.

"A CREEK RUNS THROUGH IT"...

 

Our creek in Autumn.

HAUTE COUTURE

Soft and wrapped in dusty blue,
this sweet October air
pulls a leaf from off a tree
and pins it in my hair.

Indian Summer witches' brew,
this sweet October air
tickles me with fancy-free
and paints me debonair.

--Rose Moore
   from "Valley Songs"
              Oct. 1993
              72 degrees

GOODBYE TO AN OLD FRIEND WHO HAS SHARED OUR HOME SINCE 1998

Black Jack Royal---known to us as Jack---died peacefully in our library this morning, at our feet. He loved all human beings and especially he loved us. We will miss him, but we are grateful this old friend died quickly and without pain. I keep thinking of a quote I read somewhere from the 1700s, from a stone that marked a burial spot: "His name was Jack. He was born a dog and died a gentleman."
Goodbye, Old Jack. Your people will miss you."

OCTOBER NIGHT...

As night falls quiet as a church,
a breeze stirs reverential music as it
moves among the poplar leaves.

Far away I hear an owl's prayer
and watch the evening clouds drift in
like white-smocked altar boys.

Soon darkness draws a blindfold over me,
yet I still hear and smell and feel
this autumn night, with winter waiting
unseen in the wings.

Rose Moore Oct. 1994
randrmoore@gmail.com