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.
———————-