...
By the first of October,
the world wraps itself in worn, tired skin,
crisp leaves swirling like lost thoughts,
each gust a reminder of what slips away—
the sun bows out early,
hiding its face behind clouds,
while pumpkins, ripe with rot,
scatter across the cracked sidewalks like quiet, buried confessions.
My frail body—
a moth-eaten tapestry of scars—
embraces the chill,
sipping spiced cider that warms
the hollow of my throat,
as I gather strength
like fallen leaves,
crunching beneath the weight of memories.
I unearth my brittle bones,
gentle as a nurse with a patient heart,
and there’s a softness in the air,
the smell of damp earth,
a promise of rebirth
in the rustle of dying grass,
stitching the fibers of my resolve.
Each day a small victory,
the sun filtering through branches
like a hand reaching down,
and I rise—
not as a ghost of what was,
but as the first tender sprouts,
breaking through winter’s grip,
rooting deep,
stronger,
saying yes to the vibrant scarlet dawn
of a life yet unwritten.
...
Virginia Guarddon, known as Wildwood Writer, was born in the Canary Islands, Spain, but spent most of her life in the United States. Most recently, she lived in Colorado, where she built a life with her husband and family. Writing has been a lifelong passion for Virginia, beginning when she was just six years old. Instead of keeping a diary, she filled her days with poetry, which quickly became her creative outlet. After a serious accident left her semi-disabled, Virginia turned to writing as a full-time profession. Now the author of three self-published books, she continues to create poetry and prose that reflect her personal journey, capturing the raw emotions and beauty of life.
@wildwoodwriter | Instagram & Threads