The euonymus are flaming.
Their little feather leaves, red
as coxcomb and wattle
on a rooster’s head.
Red standing out from the rest,
like the wheelbarrow (in that poem)*
so much depends upon.
Each bush a fireball of heat
set aflame by October. A last-blast
celebration before winter’s wan.
Take notice, Red says. Take heed.
Gather all you need; shore up.
What’s ahead can be harsh.
Gather wood now,
so together, we may sit,
rosy, at the fire.
*The Red Wheelbarrow, by William Carlos Williams
Poem by Marjorie Moorhead
Marjorie Moorhead writes from the NH/VT border; a river valley surrounded by mountains and four season change. Her poetry of survival, environment, and finding our place with one another can be found in many anthologies, poetry websites, and her two chapbooks, Survival: Trees, Tides, Song (Finishing Line 2019), and Survival Part two: Trees, Birds, Ocean, Bees (Duck Lake Books 2020). During the pandemic, Marjorie feels salvaged by the opportunity to zoom with other poets and poetry community. She is working on a collection, to be published with Indolent Books. Many poems can be seen here: https://marjoriewritespoetry.wordpress.com/places-you-can-see-my-work/