Passage

Wind whispers frost through the forest,
sun dabs her light on branches.

A lone leaf sails over the driveway.

In the garden, black-eyed susans peer
at drooping grasses.

The birdbath offers leaves under glass.

Something scuttles beneath hollies.

Morning grabs each detail greedily,
gathering the day to be weighed
by the heart.

*

Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills with her husband. She was awarded an MFA from Vermont College and leads a monthly poetry group. Her poems have recently been published in Orbis, Atlanta Review, Dragonfly and others. She has five collections of poetry, Learning Curve, Loving the Dead, which won the Blue Light Press Book Award 2020, Blackberry Winter, Luckier than the Stars, and Wild Plum.