Sarah Rehfeldt
Letting Go
The leaves are turning copper, rust and gold.
Some linger on tree branches still
and are, this morning,
filled with light.
I consider what it might be like
to let go quickly,
to burn with great intensity
in one dazzling display –
bold and brilliant flames of bright red-gold
caught swirling toward the future.
And in that moment,
I am free.
Sarah Rehfeldt lives with her family in western Washington where she is a writer, artist, and photographer. Her publication credits include Appalachia; Blueline; Written River; Weber – The Contemporary West; and Presence: An International Journal of Spiritual Direction. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize in poetry. Sarah is the author of Somewhere South of Pegasus, a collection of image poems. It can be purchased through her photography web pages at www.pbase.com/candanceski.
Letting Go
The leaves are turning copper, rust and gold.
Some linger on tree branches still
and are, this morning,
filled with light.
I consider what it might be like
to let go quickly,
to burn with great intensity
in one dazzling display –
bold and brilliant flames of bright red-gold
caught swirling toward the future.
And in that moment,
I am free.
Sarah Rehfeldt lives with her family in western Washington where she is a writer, artist, and photographer. Her publication credits include Appalachia; Blueline; Written River; Weber – The Contemporary West; and Presence: An International Journal of Spiritual Direction. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize in poetry. Sarah is the author of Somewhere South of Pegasus, a collection of image poems. It can be purchased through her photography web pages at www.pbase.com/candanceski.