Once Again Poem by Frank Avon

the autumnal equinox.

Oh, there's always Destiny
with a capital D -
but in the meantime
there's daylight
and decimals
and deciduousness
(and indecisiveness) :

one more chance
once more (once more)
to elicit wisdom, wonder,
wisdom & wonder

and black-eyed susans
and basil and oregano.

Ruth is now 94, in Texas,
the Southern Book Festival
is in October every year,
we leave for Florida on
Martin Luther King Day
and stay at least six weeks,

and if we're fortunate
see the Florida Grand Opera
or hear the Soweto Grand Choir,

and put out pansies,
and put out pansies.

So read a few pages every day,
write a few lines late at night,
sing 'My Happiness, '
water the plants
piddle

and make one more list:

the seven seraphim,
avatars of character,
churches dear to the heart,
moments in American Literature,
'heroes, advise us, '
cities to visit one more time,
20th century celebrities,
publications that won't perish,

like the Sears & Roebuck catalog
'Amazing Grace, '
the Harvard Classics,
the Farmer's Almanac,
and Beethoven's nine symphonies

[there you go again]

There are always blessings
with a lower-case b
(at least five each day)

and in the spring
(oh, it will come again)

buttercups will bloom
down the hill,
and violets all over
everywhere,

and there will always be
another spring,
another equinox,
days lengthening,
de-light
(and Determination) .

Let's move the butterfly bushes
up against the patio fence.
Let's take up
the elephant ear bulbs
and put away the amaryllis.
Let's mulch the birches
and the sycamores
and the tulip trees
and the Japanese maple,
the cherry, the dogwood,
all those redbuds
that sprang up this year.
Let's clean the garage
(one of these days) ,
and sing 'On Jordan's Stormy Banks,

and sing

once again

once again.