come home

as I elder into old,
noticing is called back home—
be gentle here, it says

rest in slanted sunshine
close your eyes, eavesdrop
as birds tuck in for night

reflect on what’s involved
in autumn’s harvest
how to put it all to bed

I ask for yields of kindness
and gleans of gratitude
to fruit my shortening days

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.