Autumn

So suddenly she came that year

in a swirl of colored skirts and leaves,

bringing with, her mother’s gifts:

pumpkins, squash, and garden peas.

-

The trees turned out to greet her,

waving fine clad arms in fair salute,

upon each gold and red hung branch

a crown of cobwebs set with dew.

-

And near the hearth we gathered,

round the center of our tiny world,

with mugs of cider in our hands

to listen to the season girl.

-

Each eve she told a story,

weaving words into blue tapestries

that sometimes held the sky and

sometimes held the rolling sea.

-

But soon her eyes no longer danced

with twilight in their depths.

And when we asked her why,

instead of answering, she wept.

-

Next night, she spoke like time would

end below November’s moon.

Her words were softly spoken,

each betraying what she knew.

-

Wrapped in a snowy cloak,

it wasn’t long till Winter came,

his lithe, white form swept here

on sighs of bitter wind and rain.

-

So suddenly she came that year

in a swirl of colored skirts and leaves.

We never knew this time she’d stay,

at rest beneath the willow tree.