The thing below is NOT a poem.
I’ve decided to call it a ‘pourem’.
Words that poured from my heart and onto the page, without invitation.
What Remains
The colours have come and gone
You know the ones
Revered in poems and short stories
In blog posts and books
The reds, the golds, the crimsons
Deep pinks and oranges and apricots
Dazzling us with their glamour
Then falling in the cold winds of November
Turning brown and dry on the earth below
And what remains?
What remains is what was here before:
The sturdy trunks of oaks and maples
Rooted in the hillsides of our little valley
With grey-brown bark their only cover
The birches, beeches, cedars
The dogwood, spruce and willows
Branches giving rest to birds
In flight
The robins in their dozens
The doves in their pairs
A jay, flashing its blue, white, black and grey
An avian caravan on its way
The annual trip to somewhere warm
And what remains?
A few brave ones remain with us:
Some chickadees, some doves
The cardinals, scarlet coat glowing
In the lace of the evergreen tree
The squirrels, in grey or black fur
Thickened for winter
The memories, of salmon by the dozen
The hundreds, perhaps thousands
Struggling their way upstream
To spawn
Of crows gathering in tall trees, watching
For fish killed in the effort
And the thought that someone saw a bear here once
And heard the coyote howl
What remains was ever thus:
The iron-grey water of the stream
Gliding between its banks
Or rushing
Breaking barriers with ease
A glint of silver where water surpasses rocks
In a never-ending journey toward the lake
And the first snow on trees and grass
And white on white, un-peopled chairs left out
To overwinter
And the knowledge that in this valley
Autumn is always followed by winter
And winter by spring
And if we’re lucky, we too remain
To see another summer
And perhaps another autumn
When the colours return
In glory.
Dedicated to friends Carol and Amanda.
Photos by Hamlin Grange.
Cynthia Reyes 
Call it what you like Cynthia – beautifully written and so relatable as I look out my window on a gray November day!
Thank you, Gail.
Pourems are the best poems. Words that pour out and align themselves and offered to others so they too can share in the spilling of thoughts that inspire and charm. Thank you.
Thanks very much, Paula for understanding.
Wonderful pourem. I liked the images and the cyclical nature of the words. Inspiring and hopeful.
Utterly beautiful! I’m in a teary mood from looking at pictures of Liam in winters past. Somehow that poem just folds into the way I feel.
Oh, my dear. Hugs sent your way.
Thank you, thank you!
Lovely description and new word. The memory of those colours lingers here.
Glad to hear, Claire. Thanks very much for your reply.
Lovely and evocative. Brrr from South Florida.
Brrr back. Is it ‘cool’ there yet?
Winter arrived last night,high of 71 today.
Haha Amy.
Beautiful words crafted together. Thank you.
Thank you!
I love it when words do that!
Me too, but only after the fact. These ones were insistent on being expressed and wrote themselves through a hapless instrument — me. Took roughly ten minutes which is very fast for me.
A lovely piece of work, Cynthia. Beautifully penned!
I’m very glad you like it, Eliza. Thank you!
Cynthia, how absolutely lovely – pourem or poem – such a flow of images and memories. Thank you for these. Jeanne
Thank you! I’m glad you like it.
Exquisite, Cynthia! ❤ Sharing… xo
Thank you, Bette.
Well done, Cynthia! You captured me from the first words. –Curt
Hooray! Glad to heart that, Curt.
Beautiful pourem
Thank you!
This is so beautiful, Cynthia. Thank you for sharing it with us.
I’m glad you like it, Jill. It’s so un-poem-like I wasn’t sure anyone would like it but my friends Carol and Amanda did do that gave me a boost.
Lovely sentiment. If you looked out any of my windows, you’d see the last photo. 🙂
I bet! We got rain but there’s still snow out there.
“White on White” – my mind was filled with images of a starkly beautiful Northern winter! Oh how I miss that. Your poem brought me a little closer when reading the lines. I love it!
Lovely to hear from you! Thanks for your kind comment.
Your pourem captures exactly what has happened on our little piece of land – so many colours turned to brown, but still the green accents of cedar trees and the red flashes of cardinals…rather Christmasy I’d say.
Yes, indeed for a Canadian Christmas.
Oh how nicely poured out, Cynthia! And saying “look at the pared down beauty left.” I like that. There’s part of a poem that I know and can’t remember the poets name right now. I think he was South African and spent some time in Spain in the 30s; he isn’t know for this type of poetry but one of the stanzas is something like: I love to see when leave depart/the clear anatomy arrive/ winter, the paragon of art/that kills all forms of life and feeling/ save what is pure and will survive. Your poem reminded me of that one.
Oh, Lisa. What an interesting reply. I will check around for that SA writer. Glad my pourem brought his poem to mind.
Roy Campbell. I just searched on the Stanzas: http://everythingaboutenglish.weebly.com/autumn-roy-campbell.html
Thank you, dear Lisa!
And what a beautiful poem he wrote. No wonder you remembered those lines.
This is beautiful Cynthia. I like the word pourem. Kudos on listening and allowing such beauty to flow from you. ❤
I’m very glad you like my pourem, Brad and the word. I thought readers might associate it with alcohol! (Pour ‘em)
Wonderful words whatever you choose to call them!
Thank you, dear Jo Nell.
I love the word pourem! Wonderful outcome. Yes, autumn is gone and winter has stepped in its place.
Glad you like the word!
A beautiful pourem, Cynthia! Words that pour from the heart upon the page will always be as dazzling as those autumn leaves. What remains is the writer’s soul, sturdy and true to itself.
Sheer beauty to your poem here, Cynthia – I love the style and flow … taking us with your on your stream of consciousness reflections!
Dear Cynthia, I am so glad you posted your pourem. The last photo is exactly how I imagined the chairs would be.
Whatever you call it, those are words with a lovely lilt and flow that bring memories of each distinct season of home. In my new home, alas, it almost never snows and spring starts in March. I do like that part and I don’t miss shovelling the white stuff.
Beautifully, philosophically, penned
I really enjoyed your poem. It brings back the days of when I did live in seasons. We are experiencing all the seasons this week going from freezing to nearly 80f. I’ll look out for your birds.
If we’re lucky. That’s the key, isn’t it? 🙂 🙂 Feeling incredibly lucky right now. Thank you for helping me celebrate the seasons.
You describe with art the change of seasons from the summer to the coming winter, Cynthia . I posted on the same topic but only with some photos . I am under the charm of your pourem.
love ❤
Michel
BeautifuI, Cynthia! I am not blogging anymore, so hope I don’t end up in your spam mail (LOL 😂) Robin from http://witlessdatingafterfifty.wordpress.com but I am on Instagram as @robincochran55 😊
Lovely images! You capture it all, and the hope for more.
Wow, Cynthia! Beautiful and poignant. Our days have been grey here, too, but we are finally getting much-needed rain!! 😀
Beautifully done, Cynthia. Hugs on the wing.
A lovely pourem poem, Cynthia!
I really enjoyed this, Cynthia – your poetic words and the beautiful photos!
That’s beautiful, Cynthia! A heartfelt pourem, which finds echoes in your readers’ hearts. What remains are the things that we so love.
Absolutely beautiful enriching and enduring Pourem! 💙
Love the pourem!
Thank you, Carla!
a beautiful description of nature. Loved the porum.
Beautiful pourem, Cynthia. You made up a great word that describes exactly what you mean by it. The seasons come and go, but all the beautiful things remain, and our life is still rich with experiences, happy discoveries, joy and true friendship.
Beautiful, Cynthia!
Beautiful Cynthia, there’s such a sense of time and the inevitability of the seasons and being grateful for what each one brings.
Beautiful dear Cynthia … thank you 🙂
I love your pourem! I enjoy the way your words dance in a circle; slowing and then pausing for a moment and then off again like leaves and snowflakes blown on the breeze. It is such hopeful writing. Thank you, Cynthia!
Oh my gosh, Clare! You wrote this so beautifully. Divine.
Thank you so much, Cynthia. You inspired me.
A heartfelt ‘pourem’ indeed. You’ve got it all covered Cynthia 🙂