9.26

The leaves have begun

their descent into the

crannies and wrinkles of

bone bare sump below

the dam.

soon colors will flare and

singe but not yet. a pause,

as if hesitant anticipation

is the harbinger of what

will come.

cool winds, empty skies,

scattered high skiff clouds

at aetrial heights, wingtips

heading south in vee form

slashes

and roastings around home

fires in cabined woods, eyes

and hearts resting back

into cane-backed rockers

of safe harbor.

a restful pause of grace

in-between.

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