131. Bittersweet Season

Colors have faded

from red maple leaves

and bronze chrysanthemums.

Even mornings pale.

We drive down country roads

silent of birdsong,

streams dried to ditches,

barns shambled in fields.

sit in narrow living rooms,

ashes cold in fireplaces,

dress in drab flannel shirts.

steep tea, let it grow cold,

nibble dry toast,

burn candle stubs.

Our lives turn brittle.

Foreheads ache

against moonless nights.

On a last walk before winter

we button our coats

against November

find a tangle of bittersweet still alive.

– Jan Duncan-O’Neal

After a twenty-year career in librarianship, Jan Duncan-O’Neal retired to Overland Park where she writes poetry. Her work has appeared in I-70 Review, The Mid-America Poetry Review,Thorny Locust and Coal City Review. She has written eleven language arts resource books for teachers. Jan has done storytelling workshops in 25 states. She is currently an editor for I-70 Review. Jan’s chapbook Voices: Lost and Found will be published in autumn 2011 by The Lives You Touch Publications.