Sebastopol. Autumn's Quiet Arrival.

Somewhere
Not so far away
Autumn is whispering in
shouting bright new sun, slanting sharp
sloping like the golden hills
dry, brittle
patient for rain,
smelling of hay.

Somewhere
not so far away
leaves fade, intensify in hue, are lit from behind
or appear as flames
alight against flat cobalt skies.

Apples red, stripe ed, green, yellow and blushing
ripen on ancient trees
their ciderscent filling sweater air
pushed this way and that
with morning wind &
afternoon warmth
like pie in the oven.

Somewhere North
there lies quizzical roads
winding
and orchards every which direction
free from fence
pulling branches, barely camouflage behind fat cat eye leaves
severely pointed Maple leaves crunch underfoot.

Someone's leaving
someone's loving
someone's grave is fresh
someone's tears are hot
someone's laughter is free

Somewhere not so far away
Autumn is booming, pumpkins fattening under curlicue vines
sugar crystallized air
a seasonal gear has shifted definitively.

A year's about to close
The rain on the way
wool aired, scarves temper new days
pears fall, the ground littered with ochres, soft golds, crisp momentary oranges-reds.

Find me in Sebastopol
mourning summer at the river
gathering apples
remembering new york octobers
new paltz winters,
raked leaves piled high
twigs in my hair, giddy drinking cool air.

Somewhere
not
so far away
Autumn's arrival marked.
scent   sensation   sentiment

Persimmon orange, branches bared
scarf and hat
stirring soup
simmering.
The stove purring, quietly alive with activity.

Have you not felt autumn yet?
Join me up north
quiet, breathing deep
tea steeping
kicking leaves
chasing dogs
shivering
as dusk falls.

Comments

[Dissertation Diva]

Thank you for the beautifully written reminder that Autumn magic is in the air. For those of us tuned into the academic year calendar, shuffling through crispy organge leaves and the whistling wind forms the soundtrack for the start of a new intellectual adventure. Reading post structuralism by the fireside while pumpkin curry soup simmers on the stove.. aaah.

[Marie]

That is the autumn I remember and look forward to every year. Thank you for a lovely post.

[Cookiecrumb]

Stunning, Shuna.
"Autumn is whispering in
shouting bright new sun"
That twitchy paradox -- you captured it.
I'm actually ready to succumb to it this year. Thanks for the nudge.