Counting the Fall

One day or year we start to count the Autumns. Youth runs through the familiar kicking up leaves racing on to the next big change. Now we notice the fullness, the ripeness that the living bring to decay....wine drips over a pouring ewer. A mottled earth sips at leaking stems. The colors enchant we feel the beauty, the lovely face painted so swiftly over a weathered mask. We note the number, that last late observance, the count-down of our own seasons. Fall tumbles along with us as we maneuver between the seen and now lost. The leaf turns, the light burns and it's yet another bowl of cherry sadness to savor as we too take our long shadowed departure.