Autumn

        a
                     l  l
                              in
                                    g
in love isn’t so much
(falling) as paying 
attention to what pulls
you  t  o  w  a  r  d  s  
someone else.

F
    a
       l l
           in
                g
water can echo or storm,
babble and breathe quiet
but either way, moving is best–
(sitting still makes for stagnant,
and one can’t have that.)

f
         a                   l       i
                    l                     n

                                                  g

l                         v
          e      a                   e               
                                                 s

are turning slowly,
moving–yes–towards change,
a season of quiet
like gentle green blankets
laid out on the lawn.

I welcome the shhhhhh…..
of the leaves
and look to the day
six weeks hence–when those
same trees, barren and bare,
will leave a winter view,
unimpeded by All That Green
so I can pay
attention to what pulls
me towards falling
all
         over
                    again.

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