The Day It Came
Then after we left home that day
we ran out under the sunny, rising sky
while it slowly turned a whitish-gray
and we rode out the rest of the summer weather.
Then when we got back home
we rested and talked and ate
until our stomachs turned sour
from too much sugar and caffeine
and our imaginations overreacted
to every little noise in the evening outside.
And then the moment arrived
and the gentle whistling sour off-key notes stirred
in the trees, strumming like a cool autumn morn,
like handfuls of peanuts and candy corn,
like cups of hot chocolate and black as night coffee,
like the times we wore our pure white sleeves,
the times when the cool traced our hands like leaves.
Greetings from the booming metropolis that is Pleasant View, Tennessee. I am a man of constant spiritual highs and spiritual lows. I pray that I serve God at my highest even when I am lowest.
Ben was a founding member of Rambling Ever On and a regular contributor and editor until his untimely death in April 2020.
We wrote a tribute to him, but the best tribute you can give him would be to read all the wonderful poems, short stories, book reviews, theological essays, and ridiculous satire pieces he wrote for us. Pass them on to others and maybe allow Ben to inspire you to write something yourself.
Ben was a founding member of Rambling Ever On and a regular contributor and editor until his untimely death in April 2020.
We wrote a tribute to him, but the best tribute you can give him would be to read all the wonderful poems, short stories, book reviews, theological essays, and ridiculous satire pieces he wrote for us. Pass them on to others and maybe allow Ben to inspire you to write something yourself.
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Ben is a poet, folks!
This is beautiful, Ben. I especially love the last stanza. It just “feels” like autumn to me. Well done, sir!
Perfect for this time of year. If I may add my favorite lines regarding the changes from summer to fall to winter: When the white eagle of the North is flying overhead
The browns, reds and golds of autumn lie in the gutter, dead.
Remember then, that summer birds with wings of fire flaying
Came to witness springs new hope, born of leaves decaying.
From The Moody Blues, of course, but it still touches the heart after all these years.