Seasonal Sigh

Finished vines waving limply in the wind, tangled streaks across the hillside. The Autumn Earth conceals eternal motion under a carpet of many colors; a fluid carpet that flutters and shifts beneath my feet; a noisy carpet telling the story of my presence. Frost-bitten flowers broken by my passing touch salt their pollen on the wind; a gooseberry shrivels against the bark of a naked bush. The black bear and the coons steal each other's dens, and bees, lethargic, cuddle on the combs. But why? I know why--- scientifically, astronomically-- the earth and sun fly elliptically and space dilutes the energy. But still i cling to the burnt orange leaves, savor the last unsquashed berry, dreading the day when my worn winter jacket is not warm enough and my breath freezes and my legs hurt where my boots rub. The frozen rain clings in crystals to tired trees; snow glitters like shattered glass and cold sunlight assaults my eyes. I close my eyes against the glare and listen to the moaning wind, and dream of a world where Autumn gives birth to Spring.