Left guessing each morning
As the night sky lingers,
Sun rising faster elsewhere
You tease your arrival.
Tickling the leaves
At the tips of weighted branches,
Sway is soft, sometimes brisk
Ghost-like you change the air.
Mid morning telling
With full force brightness,
Your are not quite ready
To come and stay.
Waiting for your signs
With warm hues of amber and burnt orange,
The longing deepening
For what only you can deliver.
Trees will be crowned
With jewels to be shed,
Giving comfort
And rustle to my feet.
Fall you arrive
Bringing time to reconnect,
As the hearth becomes
The gathering spot.
Time for reflection
Three quarters in,
The year almost done
What’s happened? what’s yet to be done?
Lists never completed
Bewildering and unforgiving,
Instead let’s give thanks
To each day, each season.
Thank you my old friend
You teach how to shed,
Keep gratitude close
And revive for seasons to come.
