We’ve reached the end of our exercise. We’ve explored sights and smells and flavors of fall. The colors will soon fade. And we’ll be presented with definitive chill in the air. As we bask in the glow of completing this challenge, let us not forget this one last item to stoke our poetic fires. We will dress for the occasion and the upcoming glimpses of the winter ahead. Today we’ll close on the notion of clothes; Fall attire that will serve us well. Take your jacket and pack it back up until spring. We all know a sweater is better in such cases. Our faces will feel the cold and our hands will stiffen in its insistence. Choose an item of fall clothing and wrap yourself in it. We’ll huddle close to share its warmth and that of the wonderful chapbooks you will deliver.

And we should all be well prepared for the rigors of whatever writing challenge we’ll undertake in November, be it the Poetic Asides P.A.D. Chapbook Challenge that Robert Lee Brewer will offer, the annual NaNoWriMo which is very popular or any other challenge you may encounter. Write well, choose your best words and we’ll read them with enthusiasm and admiration.



What I wear in fall:
jeans, boots, sweaters, and mittens
and grins, ear-to-ear.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018




Mere days away,
a coronation is planned
for autumn’s shortened reign.

The temperatures decline
finding their descent hell-bent
on a rapid departure to parts unknown.

The trees have grown fragile;
the color barrage itching to begin
and within her palette the earth is apparent

an inherent nod to the warmth
sought, but not always embraced,
and faced with the scent of must and moth-balls.

And in the sky, standing tall
the harbinger of winter woes (so it goes
around Buffalo) dark and moody, looming

upon the horizon, rising skyward.
Storms  brewing, or memories
of days of storm-filled pasts recalled,

all seeded in the clouds for near future
reference. Your preference
is a temperate fall ending in spring.

But, here’s the thing:
the winds find their thrill in the chill
they provide. An equinox out of the box

stirring dreads of a White Christmas
long before the sleep of the solstice beckons.
Cumulonimbus is your reminder.

Better hasten to find your coat, scarf and gloves
before the snows reign from above.
Ominous and threatening; keep your guard up.

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2018



  1. Marie and Walt, thanks for this mini-challenge, and your pieces sum it up well, the long and short of it.

  2. Once again I will not be able to check in today, so I just want to say thanks to everybody for a great couple of weeks.


    calls for candles,
    mittens, boots, hot toddies,
    and, when frenzied snow flies, yellow

  3. Marie and Walt…thank you so much for this awesome challenge. I have enjoyed every stanza of it. Loved reading everyone’s poems, as well, even when I couldn’t comment. Know this fellow poets…you are all wonderful writers with so much to share with the world. Keep shining bright! Thank you for thoughts and for the kind words you gave in support. Stay warm! Blessings.

  4. Cimmerian Forecast

    This hour is too early for the garish sun,
    which lies warm and snug down behind its mountain quilt
    colored now in shades of gold, burnt orange and deep maroon.
    Waking, I shiver to see stars still lighting the way,
    tiny beacons of hope in the gloom of autumns final days.
    Winter wears a chilly wrap embellished with sparkling crystals
    that belie their deadly freeze, so be forewarned.
    From the chest labeled “hope,” I draw out warmth in forms
    to fit this frame turned chilled and arthritic.
    Once a fan of snow bunny attire, I now opt for serviceable wear –
    soft, layered, sometimes stylish – still – but more importantly
    able to keep “chill, stupor, and letting go” at bay.

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  6. Nice Threads, Mate

    is something no one
    has ever said to me,
    and they probably 
    never will, you see,
    I’m a tee-shirt kinda guy,
    put on the pants
    I took off last night,
    can’t be bothered about
    how I look, really can’t,
    try as hard as I might.
    I don’t focus on my looks,
    just make sure to,
    brush my teeth, 
    wash my hair.
    Is that so wrong for
    an old guy like me?
    I mean, what’s it matter,
    why should I care?
    A simple approach is
    the one I chose,
    as my joy has nothing 
    to do with my clothes,
    so it’s tee-shirts and chinos,
    maybe shorts, for me.
    They work fine.
    The too-warm mornings
    of summer are gone now,
    but autumn still sleeps a bit,
    not quite awake,
    not quite ready for her big hurrah.
    We are well past the solstice,
    but she’s still young,
    and I am satisfied to
    comfortably capture bits
    of breezy brilliance,
    enlivened by the simple
    pleasure of it all,
    commonplace as it may seem,
    grateful for this good day.

  7. And I Have Always Loved You

    It’s time to trade my flip-flops for
    Warm wooly socks and sweatshirts
    It’s time to dig out my favorite fleece
    Jacket, the one with a hood and gloves
    In its pockets – ready for frosty mornings
    It’s time to heat some apple cider and
    Light the pumpkin spice candle I’ve been
    Saving for this season of change
    Today is a chilly, rainy Fall day – the kind
    Of day for hot soup and a good book
    The kind of day to slow down, relax, and
    Enjoy the beauty of falling Autumn leaves
    The kind of day that I realize, of all the seasons
    I have always loved you the most

  8. Thank you to Walt and Marie for hosting this challenge! Whatever will I do tomorrow? 😉 I so enjoyed reading everyone’s poetic interpretations of each prompt – we are an eclectic bunch.

  9. Great challenge, W&M, thank you for all the work and inspiration.
    Marie, I love your reminder we are not fully dressed until our smiles are on.
    Walt, felt the transition, the brace for a change, as you helped me mentally and emotionally put away my jacket and drag out my heavy coat.

  10. My Pumpkin Dress

    On my fifth birthday, a few days before Halloween, Mom made me a black and orange dress. I called it my pumpkin dress. I loved that dress and even wore it in the spring to my sister’s ninth birthday party. After she opened her presents, Mom had a surprise for her. The town firetruck came to give the partiers a ride. My cousin, about the same age, and I weren’t brave enough to ride the firetruck, so we stayed behind. Before they left, Mom took a picture of my cousin and I standing beside the firetruck packed with excited kids. That picture, later in life, inspired many adventures: spelunking, rock climbing, hot air balloon riding, zip-lining, white-water river rafting, because I didn’t want to be left behind, like I was in my pumpkin dress.

    Two shy five-year-olds
    Me in homemade pumpkin dress
    Missed firetruck ride

  11. Carolyn Wilker’s (Story Gal) mom passed away yesterday. Her dad passed away a several months ago. She wanted you all to know. I’m sure she’ll be back with us when she can. She posted a beautiful photo of her parents on Facebook.

  12. 😦 OH, I was thinking we would go until the end of October, but I guess that would be more than two weeks.
    So I need to redo my draft for today, end my ‘story’ early … and see how the whole thing reads!

    • Sorry to disappoint, Marjory. We’ll do the month in July as we had in the past. The October exercise use was to get us in the habit of writing each day as November is upon us.

  13. .
    summer wardrobe
    is stored away,

    sadness has
    left your eyes.

    of campfires,
    places we explored;

    mountain peaks
    forests’ changing colors,

    hearts to
    take the dare.

    the trees
    shed fall clothes.

    becomes each
    tree’s transparent robe

    arrival of
    more crimson sunsets.

  14. Plaid flannel
    distressed denim
    warm wooly socks
    tall brown boots
    gloves and jean jacket
    I wear while hiking
    admiring the fall foliage
    painted yellow, red and orange
    by the Grand Poetic Painter
    who lights in me the candle
    heating my heart’s cold beat.

  15. Covering Fall

    Capricious covers
    weather of Fall.
    Indian summer jumps
    to the beat of changing
    clouds, crowding
    the sky, some edged
    in black, prelude
    to rain. What to
    wear? An olive green
    fitted raincoat, knee
    length, zip or button,
    removable lining,
    and a hood. Throw it
    at me Autumn; I am


    Icicle fingers cannot type.
    It’s always been a problem.
    My hands are as cold as popsicles.
    Why are there no indoor gloves?
    Socks and slippers are insufficient
    to keep my feet from freezing.
    Wear socks to bed? Why not?
    It is better than frozen toes.
    It’s not outerwear I need.
    apparently it’s innerwear!

  17. Thank you, Marie and Walt, and all the others that participated. And a special thanks for those that wrote wonderful and uplifting comments in response to my offerings. I apologize for the scarcity of comments from me, but life is bountiful and time is precious. I did read many of the poems when time permitted, and was amazed by the talent and willingness of those that pour their souls into their creations. Keep up the great work, y’all.

    Garments of White

    One day we shall
    Wear garments of white
    If only we accept
    His gift


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