Nostalgia is a warm soft bed
downy, drowsy, a burrow
well insulated by last year’s leaf-fall
the earth turned and fragrant
welcoming a snug hollow
where memory can dwell
what slept all year awakens now
brought forth by the changing light,
the yawning season stretches and emerges
bedhead crazy wild with
prolonged hibernation,
stuck with twigs and leaves like an old nest
the kitchen fills with smiling anecdotes
taken down carefully
one by one from their storage places
at the back of high cabinets
the table is laid,
the feast waits for preparation
a gathering is called
and so the flock assembles
drawn by a scent of recollection
drifting with woodsmoke
through the air, descending
with its own soft reassurance
window light beacons
reminders reach out from the
padded soil, stone markers
etched with names and house numbers
map out the path
for each synapse to follow
each passing moment carries
the breath of belonging
long forgotten
but transported forward
and held dear again
for a time
for the present’s gift
All this week I have been sharing this poem in pieces on my Instagram, along with instant photographs made on one lovely November afternoon when I let myself have a day of rest and creativity. Thank you for reading!
The Poetry Patio 