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Leaving Song

Now is the winter of my discontent
To be reformed, transfigured into spring?
I cannot seem to hold to anything
That by this sudden blossom is not rent.
I leave a love behind, unfathomed still;
I have a hope before me, waiting yet;
And trapped so, where no boundaries are set,
I find a faith, an unexpected will.
The summer is impending in the autumn;
The promise is penumbred by the wilt;
Before new petals grow, leaves must be spilt
On forest floors, at garden’s edge and bottom. . .
Fall, leaves, as my heart, for leave I must,
And autumn presses on, and we are dust.
—Katy Willis

The above from a new literary magazine, Dappled Things, which styles itself "A Catholic Literary Magazine for Young Scholars and the Young at Heart." Lots of stories, essays, poetry, photographs and other visual art. "Dappled Things" is of course a referance to the wondeful Gerard Manley Hopkins poem.