Fall Cleaning

The wind woke me during the middle of the night, and continues to howl this morning. The hardwoods have been subjected to a shakedown, but any thoughts of raking will have to wait.



Fall Cleaning


The wind cleaned house last night and stripped the trees
Of defiant leaves snubbing autumn's bite.
The tenor's changed, gone is the gentle breeze.

Buffeting bass and concertina wheeze
Found the pitch and played the rafters right.
The wind cleaned house last night and stripped the trees.

Scrubbed them, rubbed them with rain ready to freeze.
Scoured the streets, polished them bright.
The tenor's changed, gone is the gentle breeze

Of Indian summer along with the melodies
Of robins and warblers singing daylight.
The wind cleaned house last night and stripped the trees.

Forced the move of reluctant chick-a-dees,
Tore down makeshift nests in a fit of spite.
The tenor's changed, gone is the gentle breeze.

Arctic blasts blew in with icicle keys,
Unlocked the box holding winter's birthright.
The wind cleaned house last night and stripped the trees,
The tenor's changed, gone is the gentle breeze.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Necessary Groundwork to Weather Prairie Driven Blizzards

I am one of the younger members of a book club about to celebrate its 20th anniversary. It has been a joy not only listening to multiple takes on a wide range of literature, but also getting to know every one of the ladies.

Unfortunately, the rate of attrition has been steadily increasing, but the group that remains is as lively as ever.



Necessary Groundwork
to Weather Prairie Driven Blizzards


Autumn and a stand of oaks,
summer's grande dames fading.

The visible hint a new henna rinse
in their foliage.

These trees sense the need
to conserve crucial sap, tolerate

weakened branches, and ignore
the growing hollows in their core

like time undermining
the matriarchs of my book club.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Channeling Weather

I miss our weekends at the cabin especially in autumn when the colors of the maples and birch and oaks turn vibrant. I even miss north wood nights that dip below freezing, carrying the promise of an early snow.

For now the entire acreage, including the cabin, remains under water. And it has shifted into a long game of wait and see.



Channeling Weather


At the cabin no TV, no internet to batter my brain with highs and lows or isobar maps. Instead, I gather Northern Lights beneath the Big Dipper, wait for weeping skies to wash my hair, play kickball with the wind, knit October sunshine into December mittens, jumprope with willows, and filter fog through my fingers while you consult an iPhone app to tell my vanishing back "It's sleeting!" as slush pings against the panes, and me already outside, sampling snow cones on the fly.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

WWI: Switzerland

A century ago WWI in its last days continued to make itself felt even in European countries not caught up in the conflict.

My mother often reminisced about her childhood in Switzerland in those years of going without, and her father already in America waiting for their arrival delayed by the war.



WWI: Switzerland


Next door
the Marne and the Somme.
I was like the Princess
with her nonsense pea,
bemoaning a lack of oranges
and pebble knots in stockings
darned instead of discarded.

Empty shelf years
broken once with a celebration:
Oma and Opa's 50th anniversary.
I imagined our offering to be gold,
jewelry for her, cufflinks for him.
But all my pleas for a grand gift
only brought head shaking.

Cheeks burning,
prodded by my mother
I handed them our beribboned box,
confused when they proclaimed it
their favorite present of all:
a half-kilo of coffee beans
trailing earthy aromas.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor