We have gathered all of the submissions for our first poetry contest!
As a reminder, the theme of the contest is change.
Here are the poems!
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Cary, North Carolina News and Updates
We have gathered all of the submissions for our first poetry contest!
As a reminder, the theme of the contest is change.
Here are the poems!
It’s sweltering. Mosquitos buzz. The air is thick.
I know soon I will miss the warmth of the sun deep within my soul.
I too yearn the coming relief.
A yellow leaf. The crispness of the evening wind.
The inviting scents of cinnamon and nutmeg. The softening of the harsh days.
The coming home. The traditions of time.
The excitement of holidays to come. Time spent snuggled up by a fire.
The long days become fleeting memories.
To shed the season and begin again.
I welcome the renewal.
Growth takes root at the precipice of change.
A slow, grueling challenge in the dark.
Fed by decay, born from dirt.
A change is coming but war comes first.
One month, one line. Two months, one line.
Three months, the lines change from one to two.
Twelve weeks, body changes, size changes,
“everything will change,” they say.
Making room for you inside and out.
Building, painting, washing, wondering, imagining.
You grow with the seasons – an apple in October,
cauliflower in December, a squash in February,
and I count down. In March, “today” – today everything
will change. Hours and hours, “no change,” pain, hours,
“not enough change,” pain, hours, “OK, it’s time.”
Soft and sweet, change is good, welcome, and beautiful.
I am changed inside and out.
Changing table, changing diapers, changing clothes.
One month, you’re growing
Two months, you’re smiling
Three months, you’re reaching
Four months, you’re rolling
Five months, you’re grabbing
Six months, you’re sitting
What’s next? Time is a thief but watching you grow
Is magic.
I am reminded,
again and again,
that the greatest
experience of fear
is not in the doing
of something new
and scary,
but in the anticipation of it:
the breath before change.
Like driving a uhaul on a major highway,
or a solo cross-country road trip,
or traveling to a foreign country alone.
Like leaving you.
Like choosing me.
In the season of autumn’s gentle range,
Leaves transform, in colors strange.
Change whispers through the trees so tall,
In the fall, nature’s beauty enthralls.
Founder of The Cary Report. When I am not keeping up with local news, you can find me riding my bike around the Greenway trails or lying by the pool.