A Cool, Rainy, Fall Morning

As it fell
Upon my house
Against my window
And, frankly, on my soul.

I should tell:
The dirt remained
The pane? More opaque.
And the pain? All too whole.

It can pelt
But also heal
Or lift awesome ships.
But not today. Instead:

What I felt
A subtle pull
Growing each moment
To drag me back to bed.

Inevitable

Holding on with grip so tight
Not yet ready to take flight
Does not see or care or know
This greenish leaf, a now rare sight.

Not the time, yet, to let go.
Though most have fallen, now, below
Mingling, Rotting, on the ground
Retired from their color-show.

Yet, stubbornness this one has found
Despite the dormancy around
Still green for now, and yet like some,
It too surely will turn brown.

Yet to this change, it will be numb
And cling to where it sprouted from.
And put up a valiant fight.
Until that last moment's come.

Beautiful sunsets frighten me

Pretty pinks sink fast,
Replaced above by Navy.
In the east, black waits.

Autumn

I wrote this one a few months back:

Ode to fleeting beauty

Your nights are brisk, dear Fall,

Your sunsets light the sky afire.

You, mirroring, perhaps, the shades of trees

Which I now watch with awe:

This yearly show where you inspire

Bright leaves ablaze, then floating on the breze.

And yet, you tease my heart

Your gorgeous brilliance doomed to fade

And how can I embrace your waning strength?

Yet I’m wrong from the start

No matter how briefly you stayed.

Its depth of love that matters, not the length.