October Virtual Journal

West Babylon Public Library

Another month, another journal of creative writing! We’ll be continuing this virtual journal each month, so check back in or send us some writing!

Please be aware that the opinions expressed in the newsletter are not necessarily the opinions of the West Babylon Public Library. Season of Letting Go by P. Soper

Does tree feel pain when a leaf rips away? Her buds of spring reached golden fulfillment Does loss of what she birthed cause grief? now fade, shake loose and dissolve If so, does she comfort herself that suffering has use compost to nourish the future like snake peels old skin to allow fresh growth? a future that needs her more than the past. Autumn inspires Outside my window helps me shed my time capsule of her flaming foliage falls to the ground stuff every leaf a proclamation: evidence of who I was You cannot keep your old life who I hoped to be and its paraphernalia who I thought I should be. if you want to evolve and embrace the new. Branches laden with decaying leaves weigh heavy anchor me in place.

Tree, obedient to nature's command, heeds her inner wisdom. It's not a voluntary process. Tree must lose her leaves for possibility to bloom.

The Coming of Autumn by T. Trapanotto

Here, I sit at my usual bench in the town park where I live and have been coming here for years. But today is a little special, as I sit here and look around, I see the leaves of the trees starting to lose their wonderful green color that will soon turn into what will become an assortment of golden yellow, orange and red fall leaves.

I see the once brilliant colors of the pink, yellow, purple and whites of the fragrant flowers that filled the many gardens here in the park, fall to the ground, which will enrich the soil for the next planting in the spring.

I see the squirrels roaming around the grounds looking for food that they will take back to their nest, going from area to area.

The little boy who is feeding the ducks in the lake, that will no longer be there, as he stands next to his dad with a sad look in his eyes.

The little girl who is throwing small pieces of bread on the ground for the birds to eat, as they too, will soon be gone.

I now feel the coolness of the afternoon weather, as the sun's ray is toning down. I see daylight being less and less with each passing day.

I can smell the freshness in the air, still feel the warmth of the sun, and the friendly feeling of all those around me, for I see the coming of Autumn. Halloween Dreams by R. B. Rose

Purple moons full of Witches flying high Goblins and Ghouls giving us a scare Shadows across a darkened sky Invading homes and the outdoors, taking all—unaware Black Cats riding on thick corn silk brooms Bats dwelling, in number, in cave-like tombs Do keep a watchful eye, do not fall asleep Pumpkins crawling from their vines; For a Ghost may come and pull your hair— ah, the creep! Hollows for eyes and teeth in jagged lines On a cool autumns frightful Halloween night Skeletons creamy white bones all aglow Dancing to caws of ‘Nevermore’ from a flock of Crows ***Happy Halloween from Poet Rita B. Rose!

On Narraskatuck Creek by R. B. Rose.

Katydids kept me awake at night with their incessant sultry song. I returned to the dressing table to brush my long wavy auburn Had I been in my own home I would have cocked my rifle, locks. Though it was sizzling outside, I decided to wear my high walked thirty paces, and blew the critter off the leaf it was collared shirt with the silver metal buttons. I also chose my sitting on but, I was a guest at Fred’s South Shore Amity mansion. beige pleated skirt, the one with blue flowers, I embroidered. I finished my famous look by slipping into my favorite cotton At sunrise, from my bedroom window, I admired the great watery twill jacket. View. I moseyed to the washstand to splash cold water on my face, when a summer gust blew in from the Narraskatuck Creek. It caught As I did every morning, I practiced a few moves in the mirror me by surprise as it knocked my Stetson to the floor. Wondering if and in front of the open window again, just in case those there was a human element fueling this wind, I reached for my Colt sheers decided to get funny! I then studied the image of and crawled on all fours until I came to the window wall. The tick tock myself and holstered up. I could not wait for what the day of the clock and a flapping sound was all I could hear. Swiftly and with might bring. Unlike others of my sex, I could not sit still—it was precision, I fired out the window. A fowl on the marsh fell into the brush. hard work for me to do so! Another gust rose up and made ghosts of the sheer curtains. It tried my patience but I was a markswoman and should have known better than to I reached for my Stetson and brushed the felt. I sat it, square, go off halfcocked. I chuckled knowing the last time I did over react. Staring on my head. I sauntered to the breakfast room. My host, Fred, out of the window, I made a mental note to mentioned hearing a gunshot. To save me from fetch my bird. embarrassment I told him I wrangled dinner. In the evening,

duck ‘a l’orange was my treat. Can you guess…who am I?

. Answer: Answer: Oakley Annie

Memory by T. Trapanotto

Memory, a gift that we all have been blessed with. A gift that can provide us with the recalling back of times and days gone by of happy moments, occasions, events, happenings and of family and friends.

As the years pass us by, people come and go in our lives, but with our memory we can always recall those that were dear to us and that moment or time we spent with them and enjoyed.

Time is something we can't stop, as with each passing minute, hour and day we grow older, as also our memory. But in our memory, we can store that person that was so dear to us and what we did on a particular day and time, and that moment will never grow old, as it will still be the same as when it first happened.

For you see, in my memory, my lovely granddaughter will always be that little girl of six. With me and her, walking hand-in-hand in the park, playing in the sand at the beach, reading a story to her, teaching her to ride her first bike, watching her make her first cookies in her easy bake oven, putting her to bed at night and hearing the words ‘grandpa I love you.’

But as we do age and get older with the passing of time, our memory may start to fail us at some point, but for now, I will enjoy the recalling of all my happy moments of my family and friends that has made my life so special and wonderful to me.