Between Fall Back, Spring Ahead
A poem by Catherine Arra

Between Fall Back, Spring Ahead

Twice a year … maybe … the windows.
Screens on, screens off, paper towels
and glass cleaner, preferably with vinegar.

Seasons circle on in winter thaws,
summer thunder. Carcasses of hibernating
stink bugs, spider webs, fly dung accumulate.

Halfway through the chore, I stop to tune
the forgotten guitar cased and corner-bound—
each string a window gone rogue in life’s weather.

I spray to cleanse. Tune up, tune down.
Respray and wipe to sparkle,
not too sharp or flat.

I find the vibration, a calibrated clarity
that sings in light, blends sound and rays
in perfect pitch.

Strum in unfettered sun.

About the Author:

Catherine Arra is the author of four full-length poetry collections and four chapbooks. Her newest work is Solitude, Tarot & the Corona Blues (Kelsay Books, 2022) A Pushcart nominee, Arra is a resident of the Hudson Valley in upstate New York, where she lives with wildlife and changing seasons until winter when she migrates to the Space Coast of Florida. Arra teaches part-time and facilitates local writing groups. Find her at www.catherinearra.com

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