Clouds frill fine tentacles; climb like jellyfish Up the autumn sky; cormorant’s black silhouette Poised to plunge stands on protruding rocks Lake bass unconcerned tips and flashes Bangs out giant ripples; leaves on slow roll-out— Dash of red, rind of orange, but mainly stubborn green and dry brown, while cricket drills A non-stop rush to find his mate Damp grass and cattails filter Walkers crunch on gravel paths Short-sleeved tees enough today Horizon sky slings gray; a silky breeze stirs First blue sky smiles in weeks suck off election stress Cheeks curl cool; the season when dark drops fast.
Speak to me of autumn Says she to me But what is autumn without you? You are autumn to me.
You are the leaves bright red and golden that lace my life together. You are flannel shirts And drives deep into New England country where we Discover together Covered bridges and Mountain peaks apples and Phantom Farm Pie. You are cozy nights watching Dracula Over and again Nestling before candles in twilight.
You are the arms that wrap me tight at night as Summer churns into Fall and I tumble into dreams kept safe by your touch.
You are the autumn sky Close and beautiful
Yes, of course, you left at the end of autumn As you arrived at the beginning You are a Libra Balancing life as only you would.
You passed on from this cacophony of ills midst a heavy blanket of orange and golden leaves you watched fall outside of our window. Leaves would not fall without you now but your spirit inspires them to continue their journey otherwise Autumn would come to a stop, Of this I am sure It would all come to a jarring stop For there would be no sense whatsoever
Without you in this world.
Your last journey up our stairs Wheelchair carried by two laboring medics Lifts you through the leaves The thick bright red leaves fall around you Your face weakly radiant Happy to be home where you have come back to die You look up and me and smile I peek at you barely, Unable to assemble what has led us to this place.
Never shall I release you As I walk among the leaves I see you in them everywhere My Autumn My Love of Autumn My Love.
"Write while the heat is in you." Henry David Thoreau ……Photo by Ramon Hernandez