Everyone writes about Fall, the leaves changing,
the colors exploding, the parallel to life's transitions,
blah, blah, blah,
she refused to do it.
I mean, sure, okay yes, everyday she and her arthritic dog
went out into the Fall and sniffed and noticed the changes,
and yeah, maybe they touched the leaves with their fingers
I mean, sure, okay yes, everyday she and her arthritic dog
went out into the Fall and sniffed and noticed the changes,
and yeah, maybe they touched the leaves with their fingers
and nose.
Perhaps they even spoke to the trees sometimes.
One of them, no need to say which, may have rubbed
One of them, no need to say which, may have rubbed
her rump against the smooth bark of a birch because of its beauty,
and maybe, just maybe the word "majestic" crossed their
minds.
minds.
It wasn't their fault though.
Autumn is so noisy,
Autumn is so noisy,
just all in your face about it.
The little yellow leaves especially,
they know what they're doing, being all adorable and sunshiny and
paradoxical (the dog's word, not hers).
The orange ones practically screaming as they fall,
"Loooook at uuuuusss! With your eyeballs!
Behold and apply the metaphor of us to your lives!
We shall not be ignored!"
So they did. She and the dog took stock,
because they couldn't not. They noticed their ages,
they noticed the children's. They noticed the
children weren't children anymore.
They saw where they'd been, and they wondered what
was next.
But only to be polite.
paradoxical (the dog's word, not hers).
The orange ones practically screaming as they fall,
"Loooook at uuuuusss! With your eyeballs!
Behold and apply the metaphor of us to your lives!
We shall not be ignored!"
So they did. She and the dog took stock,
because they couldn't not. They noticed their ages,
they noticed the children's. They noticed the
children weren't children anymore.
They saw where they'd been, and they wondered what
was next.
But only to be polite.
And only because it was all so majestic.