Tuesday, September 27, 2011

It's that time of year again
Where things get still...
...and quiet.

The nights are cool,
Morning is damp with dew
And the days warm slowly.

Somehow time simultaneously seems to speed up and slow down.

And the squirrel and chipmunk spirit in me starts to harvest and collect,
To store.
And to find a cozy place to hunker down for the winter.

All of my clothes seem to thicken
And to be put on in layers.

The colors on the trees all starts to turn warm and vibrant
Before jumping blindly
And flutter to the ground below-
The ground below,
Waiting patiently for a crunchy blanket.

And as the season winds on
And continues to shift
The leaves decay,
leaving behind the sweet smell
Of rich,

It is the season,
The time of year.

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