Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Goldberg’s book was among those recommended at the top of my reading list by the chair of my doctoral committee a decade ago, and the messages about writing remain timeless.
So let’s begin September with a farewell letter. Today’s card: Write a farewell letter. Mine is to the mindset on the arrival of fall.
Larin of Oklahoma is our host for the 24th day of VerseLove2025. She inspires us to write Etheree poems about a season of our choice. You can read her full prompt here.
An Etheree poem consists of 10 lines with the number of syllables of each line order as the count.
I know everyone is tired of winter, but here in Georgia it only takes a couple of days of the heat to be ready for winter again, and I’m already there.
In Stillmeadow Sampler, Gladys Taber writes through the year in chapters named for seasons. I think what I love best is the way she captures the feelings of each season with such sensory descriptions.
I’m reading the end of the summer chapter, which focuses on August. Here is where Taber gives me the hope to get through the dog days of summer:
“As August draws to a close, evenings are cool. Autumn is already in the air. The signs are small, but a country eye sees them.”
Earlier this week, I found a reddened maple leaf. Today, I squeezed a fig, and it isn’t as firm as it was a week ago. And as I listen and watch the patterns of birds, I sense change in the numbers that are here.
The stores are beginning to put their summer clothes on clearance as the fall fashions arrive, and of course the craft stores are already decked out for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’ve resisted all temptation to break out the pumpkin candles and strike a match.
I’m on the countdown, though.
Just after Labor Day weekend, I’ll bring out the pumpkins and burlap and light a maple bourbon candle. I’ll bring out the socks, sweaters, and scarves, and change out the front door wreath. I’ll book a pedicure and choose one of those shimmery autumn colors that’ll match all the shades of leaves on the deciduous trees. And I’ll make the orange spiced tea that my mother used to make when I was young and raise my cup to the changing season!
Common Threads 