Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!
For this session we read a poem First Fall by Maggie Smith, posted below.
Our prompt was: “Write an introduction to a season or Write about knowing it will come back.“
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First Fall by Maggie Smith I’m your guide here. In the evening-dark morning streets, I point and name. Look, the sycamores, their mottled, paint-by-number bark. Look, the leaves rusting and crisping at the edges. I walk through Schiller Park with you on my chest. Stars smolder well into daylight. Look, the pond, the ducks, the dogs paddling after their prized sticks. Fall is when the only things you know because I’ve named them begin to end. Soon I’ll have another season to offer you: frost soft on the window and a porthole sighed there, ice sleeving the bare gray branches. The first time you see something die, you won’t know it might come back. I’m desperate for you to love the world because I brought you here. Credit: poetryfoundation.org Maggie Smith, "First Fall" from Good Bones. Copyright © 2017 by Maggie Smith.