Now that summer has abandoned me for good,
and I’ve packed up the picnic baskets and the flip flops,

I surrender to hearth & home,
to cooking and cleaning and creating again,

To tackling all the clutter that crept up in the crevices of neglect while i languished
perfectly productive afternoons beside the pond.

Once resenting, now grateful
to the Cold, who

Tidies the land–the brush, the unmowed grass, the garden
and aligns Everything,

Even
the bare branches and the naked forest to the single aim of staying
Warm.

And finally grateful too,
like a matured child,
to this familiar House,

Whose weight I railed against each summer day,
longing to be free of the mundane

But now, as the days grow short,
and the nights grow long,
and the skies begins to flurry,

I toss aside my petulance,
embracing this steady companion
called home.