Photo @veradavidovaphotography

FALL’S FIRST DAY

A squall line

Approaches and strikes

Leaves and sticks

Carefully piled in the shadows

Blow frantically across the lawn

Proud annuals bend and break

Before the bluster

Torrents of rain

Scatter this way

And that

Then it stops

The beautiful afternoon

Returns clear and sharp

Sunsets rays seem lower

Mast poles in the harbor

Reflect yellow not summer orange

Didn’t I notice before

This sign of waning days and light

My bay a dark mauvais greenish blue

A winter color

Waves choppy grace gone

A clip of breeze felt chill

Goosebumps sweep across

My now exposed skin

As I pull the long sleeves

Over my arms

I know

The curtain has dropped

There will be nice days

Yes

Many things to look forward to

And enjoy

But the freedom

Is gone

Our frail and

Temperate bodies

Withdraw

Trees shed their leaves

For us to wear