Falling Into Fall
I am walking the edge of Fall this evening:
Not the rush of Spring and Summer’s swift river waters,
Not the ceasing of Winter’s snowy fields,
But the saunter of endless breeze
That is never fully wind.
No chill threatens my bones
And no sun is sending me for shade,
I am the brisk air that breathes freely
And holds all the reds, oranges and yellows of Autumn.
Tip-toeing between Summer and Winter,
I am falling into Fall.
