Autumn: Poems from Interweave’s October Writing Circle


Dear Friends,

We are back! Fall in all of its golden hued glory is in full bloom and our writing circle is grateful to be reconvening after the summer break. This month our theme was simply AUTUMN. We have a wonderful collection of new writings. We hope you enjoy them and that they nudge us all to take a few minutes to stop and create a space within to see what is waiting to be said.

Thank you so much to all of our contributors and readers. Wherever we live ~ whether we participate in person or in spirit ~ what joy there is in being a part of this together!

Our next circle will meet on November 7th.  

Warmest Regards and Happy Fall,



FRACTURED AUTUMN   by Rosalind Seneca

It is autumn.

 I am in the autumn of my life and I have fallen down the stairs.

All the way down the basement stairs from top to bottom in the dark.

I hit my head, smashed my face, fractured my neck and fractured my foot.

I have a slight concussion.

The fractures are small so no operations or casts, just an extremely uncomfortable, stiff and unyielding surgical collar, and huge surgical boot.

I must wait six weeks to be released from these.

I am finally angry.

Did I need this? Do I need a lesson in patience, in gratitude that it was not worse?

Do I need to be told by my loving friends who come with such sympathy and sorrow bearing fabulous flowers that I should get some nightlights and shut the basement door?

Do I need to listen in pain to their outpourings about their surgeries and injuries in enormous detail?

Do they think I am in an especially good position to sympathize?

I am tired of being grateful for visits and calls; holding myself back when my sister says I should make rice puddings to increase my calcium, and my sister- in-law says I should walk a lot.





Summer Has Past Now Fall Has Come by Sue Edmondson

Summer has passed oh those glorious days where the sun's heat gives warmth and color to the near naked body.  Now fall has arrived. Cold weather is here. Now we weigh ourselves with layers of clothing. You feel the weight of this all pulling you down in a heap. Fall is not so bad after all. It's just getting us ready like seeds being planted in the fall. And in the spring the seeds start to sprout and our bodies are renewed with life.  This has meaning and hope for me.  



OCTOBER FIRST by Susan Abbott Maitner

The first day of

real chill

arriving home

and taking  off my summer clothes


Squirrel scurrying across the deck



Endings by Lisa Brown

Dry crunching leaves beneath my feet


Winds that blow in and around me sneaking into my clothes


Giving me a chill that is hard to warm


Shorter days that make me feel as if time is getting away from me


All of these making me pull the covers over my head


until Spring.



OCTOBER SECOND by Susan Abbott Maitner

God knows when I last put on a pair of socks,

but today I do.

Gone is the seventy-degree September weather

 and bathroom tiles send icicles through  my feet

while stepping  from the shower


Ferreting through the bottom drawer

 I nab a pair of over-sized Woolrichs

marled grey and  still in the package


Reaching almost to my knees

they warm me:

a belated inheritance from my father


I will wear them for three days straight



Falling by Janet Maulbeck

Stripping my little tree

               How delicate

                               How rough

                                              How tenuous


The wind blows

               I am shaken

                               As things fall away


My roots are more important     

               than my flowers

                               which come and go


I dig deep and

               hold on


Hoping for growth

               But wanting solace

                               I endure the turn of seasons



TRANSITION by Susan Abbott Maitner

For Luke

You are a charmer and

 will turn two in November


Today we walk your sister to school

and you absolutely will NOT

take hold of your sweet mama’s hand


Instead, when I ask,

you reach for my finger

And smile


Together we meander

at your pace


You want me:

and I am

over the moon


With happiness



Autumn by Nancy Burgas

Twice in autumn I wed

seeking warmth in the russet leaves

clutching the waning light

clinging to the end of summer


But all the while embracing the sanctuary

of long, dark nights

cozy fires burning in the hearth

and heart


As sure as I dip a toe

into the chilly days of fall

this I know with certainty

the second time’s a charm


No winds of despondency

blowing through an empty house

but rather the golden glow of rings

gleaming on our hands

sustaining hope

in a season of endings



Fall Has Entered Into My Bones by Dr. Stella E. Humphries

Fall has entered into my bones this year

Each day I leap out of bed and breathe it in –

the cool, the rain (finally)

the mist playing on the mountains

the drops of drizzling rain against the lights at night

the freshness of the air in the evening. 

The gentle, subtle turning of the leaves from green to hints of red and yellow …




Bounty by Maureen West

Excitement, finding seedlings

One red, one golden

Both a cherry variety


Planting in May

Beautiful sunny days

Growing quickly

Sun Gold, identifiable


Gradone: They’re red

And each day grow bigger


Google: “Gradone”

Plum tomatoes

Not small!

Beautiful growers, vibrant red ovals


I pick and pick

They keep me busy

Now a collection of the reddest perfect looking specimens


Google: “Cook plum tomatoes”

Boil the water

Drop in for one minute

Let cool, peel

Slice open

Seed each

Then chop a copious amount


Pull out the oval Creuset pot, now 49 years old!

Prepare Ratatouille Supreme:

Peel, slice, salt the eggplant . . .

You get the rest


Time taken, a late summer morning

Joyful and creative

Shared then froze the rest for February


Second crop: Italian Sauce, basic

Chopped as is, skin/seeds/all

Took little time, still tasty

In the freezer for January                                     



NOW I KNOW by Eileen Gerety

Sitting here

On the lawn

Breeze blowing

Feeling calm…


Peaceful place

Sun speaking… “Be”

Through the trees

It’s seeking me!


Time out today

Tonight is Joy

I’m preparing to

Tell the story


How I came

To this place

Being, becoming

Changing my pace….


To live a life

Of Joy and Love

At times, it sure

Fits like a glove!


Forget so fast

That I can be

At home, right here

And just be me.


Don’t need to run

Don’t need to hide

Right here, right now

I’ll hit my stride!


This moment is

What life’s about

Of this I’m certain

My joy can spout!


Kindness for self

An elusive gift

Coming and going

Sometimes, it shifts….


Mindfulness the key

The only way

Others dispute but…

It carries the day!


So hard to stop

And ponder anew

What drives me and

What drives you?


And yet the sun

Aloft in the sky

Is glad I’m here

And so am I!



All Life’s Seasons by Lorri Lizza

Today we shared space with all life’s seasons.

Our theme was “autumn” but the other three showed up!

Displaced from where we normally perch in the Parish Hall

Because of a funeral luncheon to be held later in the morning,

We found ourselves equally cozy space upstairs, right outside the Guild Room (where we had attempted to resettle).

Toddlers and young ones

Dressed in tiny GAP Hoodies and little pink coats with yellow felt flowers

Were learning Spanish in that room.

I watched them tumbling out at the end of class, gleeful

Sneaking peeks, shyly waving

Jumping down the staircase with their youngish parents in tow.

Just missing the funeral goers on their way to lunch.

And we writers, observing all the movement

Contemplating autumn

Many of us now in the autumn of our lives . . .


Dear Friend: Look for all the seasons in every moment – each one is there

On the in breath and the out breath

In every endeavor and relationship

The water wheel turns – its rhythm a comfort

The circle breathes effortlessly – expanding and contracting naturally

We can do the same

Whenever we allow things to be as they are.


Today we shared space with all life’s seasons.



Smashed But Happy by Rosalind Seneca

I have just had a terrible accident and I wonder why I feel so happy?

The worst has happened and I have survived – could that be it?   

Everybody says they love me and love my writings – could that be it?

I am thinking about ending my 30 year psychotherapy journey – could that be it?

Why do I feel new life is just beginning in me?

I feel nineteen, my real age.

Jesus seems very real to me.

Love is growing into a great world inside me.

That must be it.