Posted on Leave a comment

October 4, 2011

The big wide woods I once explored with another dog are yellow now.
The maple groves, the pawpaws, the redbuds yellow, bright and cheerful.  
Making sun where there is none with their dying leaves.
Those leaves have only six months at most to live.
And I fortunate I watch generations of them come and go.
Once when I was little I gathered fallen leaves into boxes
dragged to the basement for warmth through the winter.
Now I am content with the cycle of life even my own.
Easy to say now, all hale and hearty.  But now is all I know.
Who and what I become later remain a mystery.
I might not be a model of equanimity then.
But I might.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *