Saturday, November 8, 2008

My Autumn

Halfway through a century
I stopped to look around
and saw my Autumn was glorious.

I am no longer in late summer
no matter how much 
I want to pretend that the frost has not come.

I want so much to cling
to the high green and verdant things
but my world is turning into gold.

And I am spinning
spinning into a deeper stillness
getting closer to hearing your voice.

The tiny whisper
rustling amid the leaves
in the blaze of pumpkin and cranberry and apple.

I can almost hear it
softer than milkdown.
It is my autumn.