Celebrating the writers, storytellers, poets, and books that enrich the Upper East Side of Texas.

Literary

Poetry

The Season of Dusk

Rocking back and forth on the front porch in my grandfather’s old rocking chair, I notice how the motion keeps in perfect rhythm with the beating of my heart. 

Time and the elements have caused the paint to chip away, making it appear so much older and fragile on the outside than it is, only I know it is still resilient.

A small white feather catches my eye as it floats down from a nest in the old oak tree, spiraling as it falls; dancing, like a delicate waltz carried in the wind.

The fog has risen from the warmth of the earth on this cool, crisp morning and I know that soon the new season will bring grayer days to The Season of Light. 

Lush green trees have slowly traded their foliage for an array of glorious warm colors as Nature assumes its command of each season changing beyond our control.

This season, The Season of Dusk, reminds me that soon after another season follow that will bring even more changes with its darkness and cold north winds. 

I pull my sweater tighter around me as I feel a chill from a cool breeze as it sweeps through the trees and causes the dangling leaves to fall and blow across the yard.

These old bones will start to creak a little louder with each passing day, but I welcome this time because it will be full of memories to be made and stories to be told.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I imagine how the years have gone by so quickly and how loved ones have also traveled through these seasons with me.

I daydream of the smell of holiday food as it drifts from the kitchen to a table full of loved ones busy with conversation amid the mischievousness laughter of children.

In every season, new memories are born as past ones become priceless.

This is the season, The Season of Dusk. 

Toni Stratton

Lindale

Pretty Tears

Those sure are pretty tears 

as strange as that sounds

‘cause they come from a pure heart 

in a blue night gown

I don’t recommend them

to you or anyone else 

but those sure are pretty tears

if I do say so myself

I’d rather see you smiling

at one of my corny jokes

than to see you crying

with your world up in smoke

But to tell you the truth

I wouldn’t change your ways

‘cause there’s a sweet deepness

in your teardrops today

I don’t recommend them

to you or anyone else

but those sure are pretty tears

if I do say so myself

Darrell Lindsey

Nacogdoches