Along October's Road

October is a place you enter
where corn stands in brown rows
waiting for the crib,
where pumpkins dot the fields
among the cut stalks,
and the garden gives up
the last of its yield.

Leather britches hang drying,
October beans wait for the thresh,
while kushaws, candy roasters,
and butternut squash fill the sheds,
saved for pies and suppers
when the garden is gone
and winter has settled in.

The pantry shelves are crowded
with green beans, tomatoes, and peaches,
pickles and sweet preserves.
Summer gathered into jars
and set aside for a hard winter.

Down the road, the cane mill runs,
juice spilling from the press,
yellow jackets swarm around the skimmings,
as the smell of boiling cane
drifts through the holler.

Molasses darkens in the pot,
thickening by degrees,
soon to be poured
over butter melting into
a hot cathead biscuit.

On down the road, October festival,
apples fill baskets and wooden boxes,
quilts hang from the tables,
cakes and preserves crowd the stalls,
and music carries across the grounds
as people wander between stands,
stopping to sample
what the season has brought.

The hills are changing too.

Red comes into the woods,
then yellow, then copper,
until the mountains stand dressed
for the last great gathering
before the season turns.

Evening comes earlier now.

A little chill settles over the fields.
The last garden produce is gathered,
the cane has all been cooked,
the apples have been picked,
and the jars wait on the shelves.

October gives plenty
and waits for you
to taste its flavors.

A baked sweet potato,
pinto beans with chowchow,
greens cooked with streaked meat,
apples warm from the oven,
and molasses running across a biscuit.

For the time being, the coming cold
can wait outside,
while October fills the table
with what summer left behind,

before winter comes
to collect its share.