Autumn has always been my favorite season. Perhaps my birthday coming shortly after the autumnal equinox has biased me in favor of this rich time of harvest and change, but as I meditated on turning forty-six and my desire to live to be one hundred years old, the following sonnet emerged. I struggled to capture these thoughts as I had so many ideas and other influences converging in one poem (I have hyperlinked the key allusions for you), and I have been exhausted over the past few weeks. I even fell asleep with a cup of tea in my hands, spilling it on my lap and couch earlier in the week as I tried to steal a few minutes to be creative before bed. Ultimately, I believe it was worth the wait. Some harvests just take more time.
Let Me Live to See a Hundred Autumns
By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022
Let me live to see a hundred autumns,
a Phoenix born again from fallen leaves
whose flames expire in browning transformation
renewed in moss that blankets forests green.
Let me slowly walk the woods unburdened
through this the sunset season of the year
'til every harvest has been bound and gathered
against the winter looming bleak and sere.
Let me drink the brimming cup before me
'til eyes have drained its contents to the lees,
or pour it out a sweet and holy off'ring
to Him who fathers-forth such vast beauties.
Let every autumn morning come inflame me
alive within the miracle and mystery!