June 12


You want a poem about December only it’s not winter yet.

Barely autumn, the leaves timidly changing their clothes.

I’ve spent mostly all day watching them out my window

except for a trip to the downtown library where I came out

arms full of books–poems and essays and stories.

Stories of men and women living out the December of life

only winter is supposed to be the end—

the end of growth, a drying up of the sap, falling fruit–

Cold, covered over with snow and ice is what I remember

of winter in Pennsylvania when I was in the spring of life.

Only now approaching winter it would seem that a few

aches and pains notwithstanding (I have a few)

I sense new life, as if the library were the mother and I the

nursing child searching hungrily for what will satiate me.

Who are these people—authors who wrote so eloquently and

why don’t I know them better?  Where have I been?

What have I been doing instead of reading, especially the poets?

It appears that it’s not December yet.

Posted June 12, 2016 by poetryforthejourney in category "Aging", "Hope", "Purpose

About the Author

I am a grandmother, poet, blogger and friend. I love words and the inspiration they give me. Words educate, communicate, inspire and encourage. If I am invited, I love to lead expressive writing groups using poetry as a catalyst to discussion, writing and possibly even change.


  1. By Linda B on

    No, Carol, you are hardly living a December life! I’d say it’s about April — National Poetry Month every day. Am I right?!

    1. By carolroberts99 on

      Linda, thanks so much. My blog has been in transition and says I haven’t replied, so I’m doing so again. Slowly, the news is getting out in Nashville about poetry for healing. I’m taking a class at the writers’ collective I told you about — The Porch — and I’m offering one through the Community Education office. And I’m working on growing my blog, which is great fun. Anyway, always nice to hear from you. I miss “my people.” Cordially…


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