Autumn
by Donna Sheinberg
My name is Autumn. I’ve always loved that name. My sisters are named Spring and Summer. I wonder if my mother was happy when we were born when she named us, or if the names didn’t take much thought.
I can’t ask my mother because she left when I was three. I never did get to know her or my father who was never in the picture. We were sent to live with our grandmother who tried and meant well, but was clearly over her head. She left school in the sixth grade to work in a shoe factory, married and had a couple of kids. We grew up poor, on government assistance, wearing hand-me-down clothes and living in low income housing.
I always had dreams, though. I had a pretty good voice and thought I could sing and maybe even act and make something of myself. That never happened, but you could say I have somewhat of a dancing career. I go by Lola.
I live and work in Cape Cod, MA, the place everyone thinks of homemade jams, succulent seafood and family picnics on the beach.
Not in MY Cape Cod. I work in the places no one talks about. The seedy strip clubs amongst drug dealers with bad teeth and co-workers that look like they’ve been through the wringer.
I never give up hope, though. Maybe Hope should have been my name.
Ode to Autumn
by Marilyn Myerson
Autumn zephyrs flow through the branches of the trees, lifting their spirits, caressing them with a lover’s touch. The trees take strength from the gentle breezes, feel joy, and sense their leaves ignite with colour and fall to earth to grace our mere mortal lives. To remind us they were here before us and will be here after us—they are connection—their roots draw up, spread out and share their nutrients; their trunks sway with the wind, ever flexible. Such lessons if we would only learn them. Trees are connection between earth and sky. Firmly planted, their branches sway and dance to unseen, potent rhythms. Trees know the cycles of life, and laugh or cry at our inability to perceive these truths.
Shirley and Samuel Squirrel had enjoyed a decent summer. Acorns were plentiful this year and their storehouse was in good shape to tide them over the winter. This year’s batch of young ones, Sidney, and Stewie especially, were eager students of their life lessons . They hadn’t seen Sisphyus for a while so hopefully he had lit out to make his fortune elsewhere, though his parents hadn’t approved of his courtship of Charlize the chipmunk….
Blue jays had been busy burying acorns as well. The local family, Bessie and Bobby, and their fledglings Bunny, Barry and Bartholomew, under their parents’ excellent tutelage, had all gathered a goodly supply of acorns for their future sustenance. Acorns with a side of earthworms, such a tasty dish.
The oak trees were pleased with this year’s production of acorns: enough to feed their companion animals and knowing full well that their little besties’ tendency to forget some of their hiding places. These uneaten acorns will seed new generations of oak trees.
Autumn equinox will be here within the month; humans will marvel at their ability to predict when day and night will be of equal length. The trees laugh to themselves: they don’t need instruments or calculators to measure, they have innate wisdom. They welcome autumn, a time to grace the world with infinite colour. A time to shore up energy for the well-deserved winter’s rest. A time of gratitude for bountiful harvest.
Today the trees welcome the autumn zephyrs which flow through their branches.
Donna Sheinberg is a retired social worker who is fascinated by the human spirit which is reflected in her writing. Donna enjoys mentoring students, traveling, and the adventures of learning. She has been taking OLLI classes for a few years and got her start in writing from Marilyn Myerson’s Imaginative Writing class. She is currently in two writing groups including Crew.
Marilyn Myerson, Ph. D, Philosophy, has learned to take nothing for granted and to embrace the power of whimsy. Marilyn was the first outside hire in what is now the USF Department of Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, starting in 1973, when it was just one year old. She was an administrator at various departmental and deans’ levels before her retirement as Emeritus faculty in 2010. She shepherded the Human Sexual Behavior class through its many incarnations, developed the original women’s health classes, and taught feminist research methods. She is happily involved with OLLI-USF, having taken painting and writing courses. She created and frequently teaches Imaginative Writing classes and facilitates the Imaginative Crew and several other writing groups.
Leave a Reply