LAST WORD: Fillin’

Cynthia Sharpe holds an English degree from NC State University. She is a former North Carolina Sea Grant communications intern.

I put on my thickest socks,
And slide each foot into a knee-high galosh
One pair among a half-dozen others waiting at the front door.
Mama needs more crusts for the sweet potato fillin’.
I grab my long, light brown sugar cardigan
And the scarf Auntie gave me for Christmas last year
And step out onto the porch.
I hustle down the stairs,
A chilly wind forcing me to wrap myself tighter in the garments.
Mushing beneath my feet,
Wet leaves
Layered on top of damp ground,
I make it to the street.
Up and down littered
With brown and orange and red and yellow.
Barren branches mourn overhead.
They are strong.
Reassuring me,
Good will come of this.
Sweet, fulfilling, warm.