In the Autumn of Life

. the wind has died down— the ground s t r e w n with nature’s debris— autumn’s palette a feast for the eye … a shelved chore before the inevitable miasma of dusty decay teased by wind’s chilling fingers that’s tasted in the back the throat – green and red leaves scattered side by side— a conspiritual cosying up a compelling contrast: youthful green, aged red— although red leads the rainbow, it follows in nature … the beauty of old age unfolds in the display of fallen leaves— s c a t t e r e d to the wind infinitely wiser …