These caramel and cinnamon days, when beauties last glow streams, find me admiring the cascade. A riot of leaves, each a blossom — orange-hued and yellow-streaked — create a ripe carpet and I picture you, a memory of summer gone.
The bird’s pure autumn-song flits as bracing air beetles to my belly and the season-tide turns. I accept all fruits, whether from the blackberry thicket or love’s labor, transform. The sweet-scented earth rises from ashes supporting new growth come spring, and I am different from knowing you.
Like the cider-press, weeping the last amber drops, I gather my harvest — autumn’s gold — and touch the frost, a sugar-coat on our bench with my gloved hand. It drips to the soil, attracted as are all things autumnal before they become new life’s fodder.
From Nature Poems To Warm The Heart And Nurture The Soul by Bridget Webber
Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved