Amy Secrist

Tag: autumn

  • Seeing Love

    Squished banana adornes the counter, turning formica to quartz, sparkling, innocence like the eyes of infants. A vase is filled, broccoli blooms buttery and the cilantro bolts to corriander, tiny white flowers like lace. Stalks of swiss chard, their deep red veins and ruffling green leaves stand supportive at the bouquet’s back and the mint…

  • Turning

    Spaghetti squash lies in the October garden beneath butter-yellow flowering broccoli. Bees still visit, bright-stripped and fuzzy, while cabbage white butterflies float over stem and stalk. The earth waits to be turned, the garlic cloves to be buried, the leaves to be gathered, scattered and spread. Our unpruned forsythia holds a bough of apple-red leaves…

  • An Ode on the Eve of Our Anniversary

    Today’s clouds sit in the sky, scoops of ice cream on glass tables.  On a tiny mountain top we let our feast rest warm in our bellies, watch our kids run wild through the prairie grass.  The trees’ journey toward winter deepens, leaves like flames flare along the horizon, flash out of the dense green…