by Alicia Beckwith
Creeping Into Winter
The sun warms the earth each day
as we wake up to be our way.
he leaves wriggle as breezes blow
boughs sweeping, bending low.
Tree roots growing ever so deep
as along forest floors they creep.
The shade it surely gave to all
gradually disappears into fall.
Colors splendid and rich go forth
with mighty cold winds of north.
Bare arms greet rain and snow
as winter takes on its eerie glow.
Faces in the Water
Standing by the pond at the end of the dock
I bend over to quickly take a look.
My child’s face looks back at me.
And later, in my teenage years,
I look again into the water from the raft,
and observe myself peering back at me.
As I go deeper into the water, I can see
Only my face; no others look back at me.
The ripples splash along the edge of the raft
Making it impossible for me to see
Anyone who’s there looking back at me.
It’s like life. When we’re young, we see things close by
Not looking afar to see what’s ahead of us.
Then, as we grow a bit more, our world broadens
And we expand our horizons to see
A great deal more looking back at us.
In our adult life, things, people and problems take over
Making it hard to see just who or what we can see.
Then in our ‘golden years, our life shortens around us.
We look about and see …… just the things that are left there
For us to see.
Alicia Beckwith is a local poet and has been writing poetry for four decades. Her poems have been published in book collections and magazines.