In Fall, I Sew


Kristen and I drove up the canyon yesterday and hiked a little. It's that beautiful time of year when the trees light up in fiery oranges and reds. The mountains in Utah are where you want to be to truly enjoy it.

As I took it all in, I realized how much my thoughts wandered toward next summer. The fresh white snow high on Mount Timpanogos reminded me of the cold of winter that was approaching and how, when the earth was warm and full of life again, I would take even more advantage of it.

So the autumn trees started me dreaming of a future I would sew through the cold, bitter times. Through the days when it's hard to convince myself it will be worth it. Through the days when my dreams seem so far away that they'll never be achieved. It touched me enough to write a poem.

In Fall, I Sew

In mountain passes burnt orange and red

between bending turns and paths well tread

I ponder summer, not far ahead,

of what could be in a land soon dead;

when rivers turn icy, dew to frost

my dream trembling, hope feared to be lost

I'll carry summer, paying its cost

lifting it high with all I exhaust;

so I now sew that dream soon to be

dreaming it big, as though it were free

building its doorway, crafting its key

among fall paths, where summer I see

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